Natasha turned to him. “But you know.”
“That’s different.”
“How? How is that different?” Anger simmered in her gut, slowly working its way up. She wanted to punch him in the arm to release some of her frustration and she would have if she didn’t fear her hand would break upon contact. “I may never see my sister again and you’re acting as if it’s no big deal.” Her voice cracked and she was afraid her frustration would soon give way to tears.
“Listen,” he said, his voice low and gentle, “you’re going to see her again. Right now, we just have to take precautions to ensure there are no backlashes to some things that have transpired over the last few weeks.”
Natasha couldn’t hold back any longer. Tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision. She hated feeling so weak and needy. In her line of work, rarely did she let her emotions get the best of her, but tonight was different. Tonight she was losing her best friend.
“Outside of my youngest sister, who I haven’t seen in years because she’s trying to find herself by traipsing around Europe, I’m all alone.” A tear slid down her cheek and Malik cursed under his breath. “I mourned Alandra’s death once and it feels as if I’m doing it all over again.”
Malik wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close, placing a kiss on top of her head. “You’re not alone. I’m here if you need me.”
“Yeah, you’re here until you deliver me back to Chicago. Then you’ll disappear, too.” She tried to push away from him, but he didn’t loosen his grip.
“I’m not going to disappear. If ever you need me, just hit me up.” He patted the cell phone clipped to his side. “I’ll only be a phone call away.” He pushed her long hair away from her face, the back of his knuckles sliding down her cheek. He lifted her chin forcing her to look at him. “Only a phone call away.”
She swiped at her tears, his soothing tone sending wicked coils of desire flowing through her veins. Her gaze stayed on his lips. Lips so tempting that it was taking everything within her not to cover them with hers. She’d never been attracted to the bad-boy type, but she was seriously drawn to Malik, and it wasn’t just physical. He was a walking contradiction. On the outside, he was this big, strong, fighting machine who looked as if he would kick ass first and ask questions later. Yet, there was more to him. He was kind, gentle, loyal to his friends, and he made her feel safe. She would normally feel on edge sitting that close to a man she barely knew, especially considering they were sitting on a bed.
“So … what, you drew the short straw and have to be the designated babysitter?” she asked, trying to lighten the mood.
Amusement flickered in his eyes. “No straws were drawn, and for the record, I don’t see spending time with you as babysitting. If anything, I lucked out. I get to spend the next twenty-four hours with a very beautiful woman.”
Heat rose to Natasha’s face, sending her hormones into a tailspin. She lowered her eyes, hoping he didn’t see need in her gaze, because right now all she wanted was for him to kiss her. The wanton thought surprised her. Never had she wanted a man the way she desired Malik at that very moment.
She glanced back up at him. Desire loomed in his eyes. Were they thinking the same thing? Craving to taste each other? Her gaze lowered to his mouth and her heart rate kicked up a notch when his tongue swept across his lower lip. She wasn’t sure who moved in first, but before she knew it, their lips were touching. An engulfing flame swept through her and all common sense flew out the window.
The intensity of their kiss went from zero to ten in a heartbeat. One minute they were exploring each other’s mouth, and the next their tongues tangled to a rhythmic beat that had her pulse pounding to the same cadence. All thoughts of Alandra and Quinn were forgotten when Malik eased her back on the bed. One of his hands cradled the back of her head, while the other gently traveled down the length of her body, tracing along every curve.
He moved from her mouth, trailing soft kisses along her jawline down to the hollow of her neck. Natasha hadn’t been with a man in over a year, and even then she didn’t feel the tiny prickles of delight nipping at her nerve endings the way they were now.
With nimble fingers, Malik quickly undid the buttons on her blouse, allowing the light-weight garment to fall open. He raised up on his elbow and stared down at the pink lace covering her breasts. Natasha swallowed hard when he dragged the back of his hand down between her breasts, slowly over her flat stomach, not stopping until he had her out of her denim shorts.
He moved back up her body and released the front clasp of her bra. A moan rattled against the back of her throat when her breasts spilled out into his hands.
“You’re even more enticing than I imagined.” His voice was raspy with desire as his gaze scanned every inch of her body, hunger brewing in his eyes. His large hands covered her breasts, caressing and stroking, Natasha squirmed under his touch, barely holding on. “I want you,” he murmured before he lowered his mouth to a taut nipple, slowly chipping away at Natasha’s control. Sucking. Teasing. Licking.
“Malik,” she said breathlessly, her head thrashing back and forth against the sheets. Her hands clawed frantically at his strong shoulders, and down his muscular arms as he continued the sweet torture to her body. “Malik.” She couldn’t seem to get any other word out, too caught up in the sensual torment of his demanding lips against her heated skin. Tired of grappling at his clothes, wanting to feel him skin to skin, she tried her words again. She squirmed beneath him until she was able to place her hands on each side of his face. “One of us,” she panted staring into his eyes, “has on too many clothes.”
His left eyebrow rose a fraction and he regarded her. The beginning of a smile tipped the corners of his mouth, and had Natasha been standing, she would have puddled to the floor. The man was too sexy for his own good.
He turned his head and kissed the inside of her palm. “I guess we should do something about that, huh?”
He removed his T-shirt in one swift move and Natasha lifted to her elbows, unable to pull her gaze from his body. His pecs and six-pack, clearly carved by a master sculptor, glistened under the bedroom lights. She didn’t think she had ever seen a more perfectly fit man in her life. Good Lord were the only words that came to mind; her mouth watered and she sat frozen in place.
With his intense gaze glued on her, Malik backed off the bed to his full height. He retrieved a condom from his wallet, placing it on the bedside table. A bout of nerves rattled inside Natasha’s stomach when he went for his belt buckle and kicked off his shoes. She couldn’t believe what she was about to do, but she had no intention of letting her mind talk her out of something she wanted. Something her body craved.
Malik’s jeans slid down his long legs, followed by his underwear. Her mouth dropped open. Oh … my. His erection stood at attention and Natasha wondered how he’d been able to pack his length inside his briefs. Everything about the man was huge.
Rays of ecstasy shot through her as he approached the bed, anticipation threatening to make her lose control.
“Now, where were we?” Malik asked when he climbed back onto the bed and hovered above her. His mouth lowered over hers and she wrapped her arms around his neck, giving herself fully to his kiss. She savored every swirl of his tongue, the sweet, juicy feel of his lips. Suddenly, her reasons for being in L.A. didn’t matter. All that mattered was that moment. That moment with Malik.
He slid his hands between their bodies and Natasha bucked against his touch.
“If you want me to stop,” he mumbled against her mouth, “say so now or—”
“No te detengas,” don’t stop she rasped, her breaths coming in short spurts as his hand slid slowly to the V of her thighs and into her wet panties. “Por favor, no te detengas.” Please don’t stop.
Natasha heard herself moan. Malik slipped two fingers inside of her and the passion burning within threatened to explode. She pushed her hips against his hand, heaving with need as he teased and fondled.
�
��Malik, please. I need—”
“Natasha?”
Natasha’s moans grew more erratic as Malik picked up the pace, his fingers moving in and out of her faster … deeper … harder. Her nails dug into his arms. “Malik,” she cried, her control teetering on the edge as she rocked against his hand. One last thrust and everything within her exploded. His mouth crashed over hers at the same time she screamed his name, her thighs locking his hand in place.
“Tasha?”
“Tasha!
Natasha’s eyes flew open. She froze. Her heart pounded in her chest as she squeezed the pillow between her thighs. Wh …what? Her mind raced as she tried to figure out what was going on. That wasn’t Malik’s voice. I must have been dreaming.
“Tasha?”
Her gaze shot to the door. ¡Dios mío! Oh my God! How long has he been standing there? Seeing Martin standing across the room, embarrassment hit her like a two-by-four upside her head. Mortified by what her ex-husband might have witnessed, she closed her eyes and concentrated on getting her breathing under control. Seconds passed. Her heart dropped and disappointment settled in when she realized it was only a dream. It seemed so real.
“You okay?” Martin asked.
“Uh, yeah. I’m fine.” She moved the pillow to the other side of the bed, suddenly realizing she only had on underwear. She quickly covered herself and glared at her ex. “Marty, why are you here?” It was bad enough that he stopped by unannounced last night, but to still be in her house, and in her bedroom, was not okay.
“I stuck around. You were so out of it last night and I didn’t want to leave you alone.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Looks like that was a pretty erotic dream you were having. Care to tell me about it?”
Heat rose to Natasha’s face and she looked away. That dream was her reality a few months ago and apparently her subconscious couldn’t let the memory of her night with Malik go. She dreamt about him almost every other day, each time a different snippet of her time in L.A. She turned back to her ex-husband.
“My dreams are none of your business.” She eased up into a seated position, the sheet covering her semi-nudity, her head still feeling a little loopy. “I appreciate your concern, but you can’t just show up at my house whenever you want. That house key is for emergencies only.”
“My being here hasn’t been a problem before. Does this have anything to do with the guy that brought you home last night?”
“No. This has nothing to do with Malik. This is about you and me.”
“I see.” He stared down at his shoes and then back at her. “Well, I just came to check on you and let you know there’s breakfast in the kitchen for you.”
Natasha’s mouth dropped open. She couldn’t remember Martin ever preparing breakfast. Since Malik had made brunch for her while in L.A, she realized how much she enjoyed having a man cook for her.
“I can’t believe you cooked.”
“Well, I didn’t actually. I went out and picked up some bagels, cream cheese, and stuff like that. You know, like what we used to have on Saturday mornings.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders drooped. She didn’t know why she expected more. “Let me shower and I’ll be right there.”
Twenty minutes later, Natasha was showered and dressed. Quickly changing the linen on the bed, flashes of the night before popped into her mind. She didn’t like how territorial Marty had been with Malik. It was past time for her and her ex to have a talk. He needed a reminder that they were no longer a couple.
Marty could have gotten himself killed last night, she thought with a smirk. It wasn’t funny, but her ex-husband had no idea who he was dealing with. From what she knew of Malik, he fought first and asked questions later. Marty trying to be tough probably wasn’t a good idea. Natasha remembered some of the stories Alandra had told her about the type of missions Navy SEALs took on and Natasha had no doubt that Malik was one of the Navy’s best. Everything about him screamed danger, take charge, and don’t mess with me. She didn’t like being bullied into doing something she didn’t want to do, but she appreciated how Malik took control of the situation the night before, getting her home safely. Just another difference between him and Marty. Martin Lockham was all about letting her do what she wanted, rarely challenging her requests or putting his foot down on anything. Malik was different.
Natasha finished tidying her bedroom and headed to the kitchen. She wasn’t surprised to see Marty sitting at the breakfast bar drinking a cup of coffee, probably his second cup.
“How do you feel this morning?” he asked, studying her over the top of his reading glasses. She could only imagine what he was thinking and hoped he wouldn’t say anything about what he might have witnessed earlier.
“Better.” Her migraine had leveled off to a mild headache. “Have you eaten?”
“Yeah, I ate a few minutes ago.” He stood and went to the refrigerator, pulling out butter, jelly, and cream cheese, as well as some orange juice. “So, what will it be?” he asked, holding up three different bags of bagels.
Natasha sipped from the orange juice she had just poured. Again, she was reminded of the morning after the night she’d spent with Malik. Not only had he cooked for her, but he’d prepared the best vegetable omelet that she’d ever had in her life. As for Marty’s cooking skills, purchasing bagels or pastries was pretty much the extent of his ability.
“I’ll take a blueberry bagel with a little cream cheese.” She pulled out the bar stool next to the one he had vacated. “Thanks for picking up breakfast. I’ve been putting in some long days and grocery shopping keeps getting pushed back.”
He set a small plate with the bagel in front of her and reclaimed his seat.
“When is work not going to be your first priority? I’m sure the migraine last night had a lot to do with you not eating properly and not getting enough rest. Have you thought any more about my proposal?”
Natasha could feel Marty’s gaze on her, but she didn’t look up from spreading a small amount of cream cheese on her bagel. A couple of weeks ago he had suggested they start dating again. According to him, now that they were older and more established in their careers, they both were ready for something a little more serious than the occasional dating they’d been doing.
“So,” Marty said, turning fully on the bar stool to face her, “have you?”
She bit into her bagel and nodded. “Yeah, I have thought about it.” She chewed, trying to find the right words to tell him that she wasn’t interested.
“And?”
“And I don’t think it’s a good idea.” She finished chewing and held up a finger when he started to speak. “I’ll always love you, Marty, but I like what we have.”
“I thought you said you were ready to settle down and have a family.”
“I am,” she stated, not wanting to hurt him, but decided to be honest. “I am ready to settle down, but not with you.”
“Oh … okay.” He released a long breath, fiddling with the coffee mug sitting in front of him.
“Listen, let me explain.”
“No, you listen.” He pushed the coffee mug away and folded his hands on top of the counter. Staring down at his clasped fingers, he said, “I know I hurt you when I cheated. I’ll never be able to express just how sorry I am for my indiscretion, but I thought you forgave me.”
“I have. My decision has nothing to do with that, Marty. We were kids when we married. Yes, you hurt me deeply, but I understood. I put my career before our marriage and for that, I will forever be sorry. Looking back, there are so many things that I wish I had done differently regarding our marriage.” She shrugged. “But it is what it is. I see you as a friend and I appreciate your friendship, but that’s all that we can be. Friends.”
He turned to her. “Despite how our marriage ended, I thought we still had something special. For the past ten years I have been here for you, loving you. Now you’re telling me that you don’t feel the same. You don’t want to give our love for each other another chanc
e?”
He stood and took his empty coffee cup to the sink. Natasha knew he was disappointed, but she couldn’t continue on the path that they were going. She should have put more space between them sooner.
“We have been divorced for years. It’s time we started behaving like a divorced couple. You can’t continue to just show up at my job or house whenever you want.”
He turned from the sink and stared at her. “Does this have anything to do with the guy from last night, Malik?”
Natasha fingered the condensation rolling down the side of her glass of orange juice. She wanted to tell Martin that her decision didn’t have anything to do with Malik, but in a way it did. He had introduced her to feelings she had never experienced, and she now realized what she missed in her marriage to Martin. Passion. Sure, they cared for each other, but they were friends so long that marrying him seemed like the natural thing to do. What she experienced during her time with Malik is what she wanted in her life all the time.
“Tasha?”
Hearing Martin call her name brought her back to the present.
“No. Malik is just a friend.” She stood with her plate and glass. Martin stepped aside when she approached the sink.
“Where’d you meet him?”
Martin knew her family, but she’d never shared with him that her sister, Alandra, had been a CIA spy and that she was married to Quinn, a special operative, which is how Natasha met Malik. All Martin knew is that while Alandra lived in Chicago, she’d been a nurse. He knew about her leaving town, but he thought that she moved back to Los Angeles.
“I met him a few months ago through a mutual friend.”
“Why haven’t I seen him around? Are you two dating? Is it serious?”
She placed the dishes in the dishwasher and dried her hands before giving her full attention to her ex-husband—operative word: ex.
“Marty, I mean no offense when I say this, but none of that is any of your business. All the more reason why you and I can’t continue on like this. I’ve moved on. You need to also.”
Truth or Consequences Page 4
