Malik moaned. No, he almost cried out with the pleasure that rippled through his body so quick and intense his shoulders shook. With his hands gripping her hips he pulled her so that she came up on her knees, the top half of her still flat on the bed, and he thrust. In and out, back and forth, he sank inside her, realizing there was no other place like this, no other woman for him.
He moved slowly, excruciatingly so, but that’s how he’d imagined this night ending. Sure, his knuckles were a little sore from punching that jackass at the fund-raiser, but he didn’t care. All of it was worth this exact moment.
Beneath him she moaned and he absorbed the sound, loving it more each time she did it. When she began circling her hips to match his thrust Malik cursed. If she kept that up, he wasn’t going to be able to make this last as long as he wanted.
Switching positions he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her on top of him, clasping her legs behind his back. He guided her slowly onto his length, let her head fall forward to rest on his chest for a moment.
“You feel exquisite,” he whispered in her ear.
“I never knew it could be like this,” she admitted, and reached for her blindfold, tearing it off. “I want to see you, see what you do to me,” she said.
Malik couldn’t argue with that. He definitely couldn’t argue with the way she jutted her chest out with that last sentence, rubbing stiff nipples along the light spray of hair on his chest. She lifted her hips slightly then dropped them back down and Malik gritted his teeth.
Belinda moved on top of him like an experienced lap dancer and she was giving him the best damn performance of her life. With desire building like a volcano waiting to erupt inside of him, Malik lowered his face to her breasts, which swayed against his mouth as she moved. He pumped faster as he heard his name over and over again, louder and louder. Fear that he might hurt her scurried along his mind as he held her waist so tight, pumping so deep into her she’d arched her back and screamed. In the next instant Malik’s release tore through him with ferocious strength.
It seemed hours later that he was able to move, that he caught his breath. He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her as close to him as he possibly could, burying his face in the crook of her neck.
Belinda hugged him back with the same strength, her nails lightly scraping his back.
“I am so in love with you, Belinda.”
She sighed and Malik feared she was thinking about his words, wondering if he meant them or should she say them in return. He was about to pull back, to look her in the eyes and assure her that he was being completely truthful. But she held him tighter.
“Me, too, Malik. I love you, too.”
Chapter 16
“You told me that night on the deck at my grandmother’s to mind my business. Out of respect I did. But the next time you plan on getting my mother all riled up, I wish you’d give me a heads-up,” Drake had said as he, Carter and Malik played basketball.
The three of them met on the courts whenever they were all available. An early morning call from Carter had initiated this game. Malik hadn’t complained even though he’d been pretty damned comfortable with Belinda wrapped softly around him as they lay in bed sleeping in after their long night of lovemaking. But he’d recognized what this call was really for and tore himself away from the woman of his dreams to join her cousin and brother in what might be the real fight of his life.
“I took your sister to a fund-raiser that your mother forced her to attend. How was I supposed to know that fool Masterson was going to be there and wasn’t going to know when to shut his ignorant mouth?” Malik asked, catching the ball Carter had tossed his way.
“I heard you broke his nose with a sucker punch,” Carter added with a grin.
Malik passed the ball back to him with a forceful push. “I punched that sucker in the face for speaking out of turn to my woman. No big deal.”
Drake, who wasn’t as good a player as Malik or Carter, stood in front of both of them, stopping their progress by his serious stance.
“You embarrassed my mother and thus the family. Our image is everything. This competition is coming up, commercials are going to start running. TV crews will be at the bakery getting live shots. We have the book deal, the blog, we’re about to be in the spotlight. Don’t you two get it?” Drake implored.
“Get a grip, Drake.” Carter frowned. “You’re the one who doesn’t get it. You and Aunt Daisy. Malik was protecting Belinda’s honor. Quite chivalrous of him, I’d say. Wouldn’t you protect your woman from a jerk like Masterson?”
Drake shook his head. “We’re not talking about me or my woman. We’re talking about Malik, a member of this team, and Belinda, who is my sister, so I don’t even want to think about who she’s sleeping with, and who is also a member of this team. You heard what Grandma said—we have to think like a team.”
“And like a team, I’d think if I wasn’t there, either one of you would have done the same thing I did,” Malik retorted, already tired of Drake’s irritating conversation.
To an extent, Drake was a lot like Daisy, only he didn’t push Belinda’s buttons. Malik thought that might be because Drake was just a little afraid of his sister.
“Of course I wouldn’t let anybody disrespect my sister. I’m just irritated because I know this is going to be in the papers and I’m going to have to figure out damage control.”
“I think the damage has been controlled. Masterson got his nose patched up and Malik went home with the girl. Case closed. Now can we play ball?” Carter said, tossing the ball to Drake, who barely caught it before it could slam into his face.
“Fine,” Drake said tightly, tossing the ball right back to Malik with the same force. “Hurt my sister and I’ll kill you.”
Malik caught the ball without a problem and smiled at Drake. “Right,” was his only reply before he ran past Drake to post a layup that was nothing but net.
* * *
Three days later the scene at the bakery seemed to be the same, but was drastically different. They were all working at the bakery, going about their daily business, but there was a chill in the air. One that Belinda sensed revolved around Shari.
“Is she okay?” Malik asked Belinda later that afternoon, talking about Shari.
She hadn’t known what to say. For once she really didn’t have an answer. “I don’t know. She seems a little tense, doesn’t she?”
“Everybody does if you ask me,” Malik commented, looking directly at Carter. Belinda figured whatever was going on there, Malik knew about, since he and Carter were as close as brothers. She’d thought about pressing further to find out specifically what was going on with her cousin, but decided against it. Malik was his good friend. If something were bothering Carter, he would know and he would offer his help.
So instead of querying further about Carter, she’d shrugged, while Malik went back to mixing his oatmeal raisin cookie batter. He was trying out new recipes for the competition, using different ingredients, including Belgian chocolate, a delicious new French cream and a sweet and spicy Jamaican sugar. Each encompassed the Around the World theme but Malik needed to determine the best way to bring out their taste.
Belinda was silently grateful that this competition wasn’t one of the ones that required them to use a mystery ingredient in a short amount of time. This way they had more than enough time for trial and error. Malik was dedicated to his work and, while not as obsessive as he considered her to be, Belinda knew he would spend the rest of the afternoon working through the trials and praying for no errors.
As for Shari, Belinda recalled their conversation of several days ago, before the dinner at Lillian’s. Shari had been a little short with her. But Belinda hadn’t thought too much of that since they’d had a lot of orders at the bakery, and then Shari had a child to go home and take care of. She figured it was just stress and decided it was best to leave her alone.
When Belinda had arrived at the bakery this morning, she’d hoped Shari would be
in a better mood. She’d been wrong.
“So do you want to work on those two wedding cakes today while I do the Hassleman cupcakes?” Belinda had asked after she’d come in and retrieved her apron from the hook. Malik had hung his shirt for after work on the hook right beside hers. It had startled her when she saw it, so much so she had to take a deep breath before saying anything. Then she’d touched it and thought of him, of the nights they’d spent together at his place, no less.
She left the shirt where it hung.
“I’ve already started the cakes,” was Shari’s reply.
“Okay,” she said, refusing to ask Shari any more questions to which she’d no doubt receive an icy reply. It wasn’t worth the headache. If Shari wanted to talk, she knew Belinda was there to listen, just as she’d always been. Maybe this was something her cousin would have to go through on her own. Belinda certainly understood that.
Deciding against any further conversation, Belinda set about making her cupcakes. Two hundred, not five hundred like the dream she’d had a couple weeks ago. Or rather the nightmare where she’d lost all control. This morning she moved at a steady pace, doing things she could probably do in her sleep. Her heart rate remained calm and she moved around with purpose but not with anxiety.
The cupcakes were scheduled for a four o’clock pickup. Belinda had them all baked, iced and packed by 2:45 p.m.—fifty double chocolate with hot pink frosting and two white sugar daisies on top; fifty vanilla with light pink frosting and a hot pink candied bow on top; fifty red velvet with white cream cheese icing and tiny candied pink hearts on top; fifty lemon with white icing and various shades of pink candied confetti on top.
It was now quarter to four and she had just taken the last box out to the showroom so she wouldn’t have to run back and forth to get them when the customer arrived.
“So I was thinking,” Malik said, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. “How about we order in tonight and veg out in front of the television?”
Belinda smiled because she’d been thinking the same thing, at least about watching television.
“There’s an I Love Lucy marathon on tonight,” she told him, and laughed out loud when he groaned.
“Oh, come on, you know you love Lucy and Ricky.” It was so easy to be with Malik, so relaxing and so comfortable. She often wondered why she hadn’t tried this relationship thing before. Then knew without a doubt it wouldn’t have worked with anyone else.
“I don’t even remember Lucy and Ricky,” Malik told her with a chuckle.
“We can watch a couple of episodes then it’ll be your choice.”
He turned her around in his arms and kissed the tip of her nose. “That’s very big of you to compromise. So what do you want to eat? Chinese? Thai? Barbecue?”
“Mmmm, Chinese. Shrimp fried rice.”
“No onions and no sprouts,” he finished for her.
Again she smiled because Malik really did know her well.
“Isn’t this cozy? Or it would be if you weren’t in a place of business.”
The sarcastic voice was like a splash of cold water.
“Hello, Mrs. Martin,” Malik said, releasing Belinda from his hold and reluctantly going to the counter as he would for any customer.
Even though Chantelle Martin was not an ordinary customer.
“Hello, Malik. I see you apparently don’t keep everyone at arm’s length.”
To his credit Malik didn’t seem at all fazed by the tight pencil skirt Mrs. Martin wore today or the white blouse with rows of ruffles that sat even higher and puffier thanks to her voluptuous breasts.
“Is there something I can get for you today?” Malik asked.
She glanced Belinda’s way and rolled her eyes. “I’m actually here to see her.”
And the showdown would begin, Belinda thought as she stepped up to the counter.
“How can I help you?” The cordial tone and businesslike smile were second nature to Belinda. She wouldn’t mind reverting back to her old ways of dealing with women like Mrs. Martin by having as sharp a tongue as her opponent.
“Not me. But you’ll need to help yourself in a minute,” was Chantelle’s retort.
The door to the bakery opened once more and two uniformed officers walked inside.
“Belinda Drayson-Jones?” one of them asked, looking at Belinda.
Her heart had just begun to beat faster as Malik took a step closer to her.
“That’s me,” she replied.
The other officer came behind the counter and reached for her free hand.
“You have the right to remain silent,” the first officer began.
Everything around her was spinning. Her heart beat so hard she thought it would thump right out of her chest. Malik was saying something as the officer took her other arm and secured the handcuffs on her.
She didn’t know what he was saying, couldn’t hear anything beyond the rights the cop recited to her. Her vision was blurry but, as they moved her to the front door, she saw Chantelle Martin’s face very clearly, the smirk of satisfaction too bright to ignore.
Chapter 17
Daisy and Matt Jones walked into the police department with an expensive-suit-wearing attorney right behind them. Malik knew things were about to get worse.
After the police had left the bakery with Belinda in tow, he’d immediately turned to Chantelle, rage simmering inside him.
“What the hell did you do? What did you tell them?” he asked her, trying like hell to keep from strangling her where she stood.
“Not all smiles and giggles now that you find out you’re sleeping with a criminal, are you?” Chantelle asked, disdain clear in her voice.
“I’m not going to ask you nicely again, Chantelle. And I don’t have time for your BS!” No, because he had to get to the police station and bail out his girlfriend.
By this time Carter and Shari had come from the kitchen, probably wondering at the noise and commotion going on.
“Don’t raise your voice at me. You should tell your girlfriend to stay in her lane. Kayla is my child, not hers. She had no business arranging some little meeting with her and convincing Kayla to run away. I’ll bet she even knows where my child is.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Belinda didn’t kidnap anybody,” Malik said, feeling like he was stuck in some alternate world where everything was ass backward and ridiculous.
“What?” Shari yelled from behind Malik. “Who is this woman and where is Belinda?”
Chantelle just nodded. “That’s right, you’re all family around here. Well, y’all better start selling more cupcakes and pies because bail money is not cheap. And if my daughter isn’t found in the next twenty-four hours, I’m going to insist they charge her with kidnapping!”
Chantelle spun on her heel and nearly ran over the young couple picking up the cupcakes for their six-year-old twin girls’ birthday party.
Malik hadn’t stuck around to take care of the order. He’d run to the garage and climbed into his car. With his cell phone in hand he called his lawyer who, in turn, called a criminal defense lawyer. An hour later, when Malik sat in the lobby of the police station waiting for Belinda to be processed, Mitchell Panelos came in to talk with him.
“I don’t care what it costs, just get her out of here,” he told the lawyer.
With a nod Mitchell had clapped him on the shoulder and said, “Sit tight, I’ll be right back.”
He was still sitting tight when Daisy and her husband walked in.
“Find out who we need to speak to so my daughter can be released,” she told the man who Malik assumed was an attorney.
He stood and walked the last few steps to them. “I’ve already hired an attorney and he’s taking care of it.”
Daisy looked over her shoulder at him as if he were a stranger. “Belinda is represented by Davenport & Gwin. Our entire family is,” she told him.
Malik’s first impression of Daisy had been that she was an overprotectiv
e mother of both her children. Then years passed and he realized there was more to her than just protecting her children. Daisy was trying to make up for the life she’d led. Not that she’d been a bad person, but Malik suspected she hadn’t been the person she really wanted to be. She hadn’t desired to be a baker like her mother had hoped, but housewife hadn’t been her top pick, either. Yet that was how things had played out for her. Because of that sacrifice she felt Belinda and Drake, Belinda especially, owed it to her to do exactly as she advised, no matter what.
They’d been on cordial terms, but as she looked at Malik today, he knew that had changed the moment Belinda told her that they were together.
“I understand that,” he told her. “But I hired Mitchell Panelos and he’s already back there trying to get her released.”
“There’s no use for two attorneys,” Matt interjected in his deep, gruff voice.
“But Davenport—”
“It doesn’t make sense to have two attorneys, Daisy. Now, Malik’s already hired an attorney for her who’s working on getting her out. That’s what we came to do. So since it’s already done, let’s just have a seat and wait.”
“I want to know what’s going on. Why was she arrested in the first place?” Daisy asked, switching gears.
“I trust Malik’s going to fill us in on all the details,” Matt said.
“And not a moment too soon,” Drake added when he showed up, Carter and Shari right behind him.
So it was him against them. Not quite, he thought as he looked around. Daisy was the only one looking at him like she was ready to snap his neck.
“Chantelle Martin, that’s the lady that was at the bakery. Belinda met her at my foundation’s fund-raiser the week before last. Mrs. Martin is the parent of one of the boys who plays on my team. She apparently also has a daughter. I remember seeing Belinda talking to a girl that day. Then Belinda said she saw her again at the library a couple days after the event. Mrs. Martin made some crazy comments today about Belinda kidnapping her daughter or convincing her to run away from home.”
Decadent Dreams (The Draysons: Sprinkled with Love) Page 16
