“I may have mentioned on my podcast that I was engaged. I didn’t expect that when I signed the book deal they’d actually want to meet my future husband.”
“You’re crazy, you know that?”
“I’m not. I’m doing what I need to do.”
Malik touched a hand to his head to ease the tension headache that suddenly made an appearance. “Back to this shoot. Where will the photos end up?”
“First, promise me you won’t leave.”
Malik closed his eyes and counted to ten. “Lindsay.”
“Please.”
He opened his eyes and saw genuine worry in her face, and her pleading expression poked at the sympathetic part of him. She didn’t come across as the confident I-got-my-shit-together Lindsay in that moment. She seemed fearful that everything she’d worked for might blow up in her face, and despite being misled, he didn’t want to be responsible for making her dream fall apart.
“I promise not to leave.”
“Thank you.” She pressed her hands to her chest and heaved a sigh of relief. “The online version of Essence.”
“Essence? As in the magazine that has millions of readers?”
She winced. “Yes. Also, the online version of Cosmopolitan and other online women-focused magazines, but those are the biggest.”
“Tell me you’re kidding.”
“I’m not, but remember what you promised. You’re still in, right?”
Malik stared into her hazel eyes, clouded with worry. He should walk out and leave her to face the fallout on her own. He’d figure out another way to pay his bills. He glanced over his shoulder at everyone getting ready for the shoot and made a decision he knew he’d regret—partly out of pity for her and partly because he needed the cash.
“I’m still in,” he muttered.
“Yes! I promise you won’t regret it, and as soon as we’re finished, we can go to the ATM and I’ll get the money for you. I promise.”
His eyes settled on Lindsay.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.
“You’re a professional liar.”
“Ouch. That’s harsh.”
“Is it?”
“Let me tell you a truth that you probably already know. Success doesn’t come from hard work alone. Sometimes you have to get a little creative to get ahead.” She smiled broadly. “Now breathe. Relax. Remember you’re my man and this is a happy occasion.”
Malik stepped closer and bent his head, looking directly into her eyes. “Be thankful I’m here. Anything else, you’re pushing it.”
“Duly noted,” she said, batting her long lashes at him.
Insanely, he wanted to kiss her right then. Her lips looked extra moist and enticing, and her perfume and husky voice tempted him to get closer.
Her gaze drifted past him, and she waved at a thin, wiry man with dark hair wearing a pair of pink retro glasses. The man smiled and waved her over.
“That’s Hal, my publicist. It’s show time.” Lindsay smoothed her hands down her hips and did a little wiggle before she marched across the room toward Hal.
Malik followed behind, his gaze lowered to the way the thin fabric hugged her ample behind. There wasn’t a line in sight. She either wore a thong or no panties. Either prospect made his dick jump, and he could barely tear his eyes away from the pendulum swing of her hips. One hour. He only had to survive one hour in her presence.
“You look magnificent,” Hal said as he and Lindsay exchanged air kisses. After she made the introductions, Hal added, “We finally get to meet the mysterious fiancé. You have no social media, and there’s not a single photo of you on Lindsay’s accounts. You’re quite the mystery man.” He extended his hand and Malik shook it.
“I like to keep to myself.”
“He’s an introvert,” Lindsay whispered, as if disclosing he had cancer.
“Oh dear. How ever did the two of you get together? Talk about opposites attract!”
Both Hal and Lindsay had a good laugh while Malik simply smiled.
Lindsay wrapped an arm around his and pressed her scented body against him. “He’s such a homebody, I have to practically drag him kicking and screaming out of the house. But there’s one good thing I have to say about dating a quiet man. Because of him, we’ve kept our relationship low-key, and I think it was for the best, you know? It allowed our love to grow without any pressure from outside forces.”
Hal lowered his voice to a conspiratorial level. “Good for you. People share too much of their personal business online. We’ve got to protect our relationships.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“Especially when you find the right person.”
Lindsay nodded in agreement. “Absolutely.”
“So when’s the big day?”
“We haven’t picked a date yet, but it’ll be next year for sure.” She looked up at Malik. “We’re both so busy with work and everything, aren’t we, sweetums?”
Malik gritted his teeth. Sweetums? Really. That was the best endearment she could come up with? “The sooner the better, love bump.” Her smile wavered at the edges. “Hal, to be honest, I’m ready to get married now. I want to get started on those five kids we agreed on.”
“Five. Wow.” Hal’s eyes widened.
Lindsay’s smile tightened. “Well, we didn’t settle on a firm number.”
“Yeah, we did. Don’t you remember? You said four, I said six, then we compromised on five.”
Lindsay gave a little laugh. “Anyway, like I said, we’re both busy, so planning a wedding is on the back burner for now.”
“What kind of work do you do?” Hal asked.
“I’m a metal sculptor. I mostly work with steel and aluminum, but I have a love of copper, too.”
“Metal sculpting. Now that isn’t something you hear very often.”
“He’s really good. He has a workshop full of pieces,” Lindsay said, talking with her hands.
“Do you have a website?”
Malik opened his mouth to answer, but Lindsay spoke over him. “He’s working on it. Soon as it’s up and running, I’ll send you the link.”
Hal chuckled. “Do you know how lucky you are to have such a supportive fiancée?”
“You don’t have to tell me. I know exactly what kind of woman I have.”
Lindsay squeezed his arm and grinned at Hal. “Isn’t he wonderful? I swear, I’m the lucky one.”
“Hal, Lindsay, we’re all set.” The photographer, an older man with spiky black hair and dressed in all black, called to them from across the room.
“Let’s do this,” Hal said.
Lindsay glanced at Malik one last time, and they headed over to the sofa and the shoot began.
For almost an hour, the photographer took photos of them in various poses. He concentrated on Lindsay’s engagement ring in a few shots. In others he had the couple face each other in front of the furniture, holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes.
When they sat on the sofa and Malik put his arm around her, he noticed how perfectly she fit in the crook of his arm. Another pose consisted of Lindsay standing in front of him with one hand on her hip and Malik seated, an arm stretched across the back of the Chesterfied, both of them staring into the camera.
The last pose was the most dangerous, when Malik stood behind Lindsay and wrapped his arms around her waist. He tried his darnedest to keep his body in check, but his lower appendage raised its head with her bottom cushioned against his pelvis, and he knew she felt the protrusion when she gasped and stiffened for a moment. Thankful for the jacket that hid the manifestation of his horniness, Malik sighed with relief at the end of the hour when the photographer said they were finished.
“Can you spare a few extra minutes, Ansel? I have an idea,” Hal said.
“I could squeeze in a few more. What did you have in mind?”
“How about a photo with them kissing? After all, this book is about dating, and we’ve got Lindsay the Sexy Diva in
the studio. What do you think?” Hal’s eyes swept the room.
Lindsay glanced quickly at Malik before looking away. “Is that really necessary? I mean—”
“I think it’s a great idea. You two have a lot of chemistry. I’m game if you are.” Ansel shrugged.
“Great! Come on, Lindsay. You don’t mind, do you, Malik?” Hal asked.
“You don’t have to do this,” Lindsay murmured from the side of her mouth.
Malik looked at her sideways. “I don’t mind. I’ll do it if you will.”
She flashed a smile at Hal and turned on the charm. “All right, you’ve twisted my arm. A quick one.”
She took a deep breath and faced Malik.
“You’re not nervous, are you?” he asked, soft enough so no one else could hear.
“No. Are you?”
“Not at all.” Dangerous though it was, he wanted to feel the softness of her lips and reacquaint himself with the voluptuous curves of her body.
“Let’s get this over with,” she said in a low voice that was huskier than usual.
Malik looped an arm around her waist, bent his head, and skimmed her mouth. The kiss was gentle and quick, but the urge to demand more gripped him with talon-like strength and tightened his throat.
“One more time,” the photographer called.
Lindsay laughed uneasily and cast a glance up at Malik, but he didn’t have the urge to laugh. He was too consumed with the faint impression her mouth had left and the way her body angled into his.
Her brownish-green eyes darkened, and she tilted up her lips. With his other hand at the back of her neck, Malik drew Lindsay tight against his length and fused their mouths together.
This time there was no skimming. He opened his mouth over hers and went gunning for her tongue. When the tips touched, electricity tore up his spine.
“Great, great,” he heard Ansel murmur as the camera lens opened and closed repeatedly.
Malik squeezed Lindsay’s left ass cheek and she moaned, tilting her head back and letting him advance further. Her arms slid around his neck, and his brain flatlined. Nothing else existed in the room besides this warm, vibrant woman. He felt everything—the crush of her double D’s, her soft belly, and the fullness of her bottom in his hand.
“Perfect. Got it,” Ansel said.
It had been so long since Malik experienced such a surge of hunger, he didn’t stop—literally couldn’t. Since he didn’t, Lindsay didn’t, either. His calloused fingers fastened tighter around the circumference of her neck, and he angled his head to the right, deepening the kiss.
Only afterward, when Lindsay finally pulled back, her breath fanning his mouth as they stared into each other’s eyes, did he realize how dangerously close he’d come to fucking her in a roomful of people.
Chapter 5
“We’re done?” Malik said.
“All done.” Lindsay’s mouth still throbbed from that kiss. No surprise that with lips like his, he was a great kisser. The tingles from the kiss attacked her extremities—fingers, toes, nipples.
“I’m getting out of here. You leaving?”
She hid her disappointment by opening her purse. “In a few minutes. I need to call a car.”
“Forget that. I drove.” Malik held up his keys. “I’ll take you where you need to go.”
“Are you sure?”
“As long as you don’t mind if I stop somewhere first and get a bite to eat. I’m starving.”
“No, I don’t mind.”
“Good. Let’s get out of here.” He started toward the exit.
Lindsay said goodnight to Hal and the others before hurrying to catch up to Malik. She fell into step beside him. “You really hate being around people, don’t you?”
“I’m doing my best, believe me,” he muttered.
They left the building and headed up the street, crowded with other pedestrians going back and forth to a live music venue nearby. When they arrived at the parking lot, Lindsay pulled up short. “Why’d you park in this muddy lot?” The ground looked treacherous, with random rocks sticking out here and there, and the red Georgia dirt saturated with water from rain earlier that night.
Malik looked back from a few feet ahead. “It was the only place available to park because of the band playing nearby.” He glanced down at her heels and shook his head. “All right, fine.”
“What do you mean, ‘fine’? What are you—”
Malik swung her up in his arms. Lindsay gasped, but immediately fastened her arms around his wide neck.
“Y-you don’t have to carry me.”
“Isn’t this what a fiancé would do?” His dark eyes looked down into hers, and her stomach tightened.
If he were the perfect fiancé, Lindsay thought. But instead, she said, “I guess.”
This was too much. Malik was not only a great kisser, he was actually carrying her across the muddy parking lot, stepping on jutting rocks and walking between cars so she wouldn’t have to.
Who was this guy?
Now she was fantasizing about having him carry her to her bedroom. The sizzling thought filled her head, of being laid on the sheets and having Malik follow her down, right before he slid his bulk between her legs.
Settled in the passenger seat, she watched him climb into the black truck, her mind already veering off into nasty thoughts of what he looked like without a shirt on. If his arms and the press of his torso against hers during the kiss were anything to go by, he had a magnificent body hidden under his clothes.
“I’d like something to eat, too,” she said.
Malik glanced at her as he backed out of the lot. “What are you in the mood for?”
“Whatever. A burger is fine.”
“You like Mexican food, right?”
Surprised, she stared at him, but he kept his eyes on the road. “How do you know that?”
“You told me, the night of…you know.”
She focused on the taillights of the car in front of them. “I’m surprised you remembered.”
“Why? I wasn’t the one drunk.”
“I wasn’t drunk,” she said, extra bite in her tone.
“Drunk, tipsy, whatever.” Malik made a sharp turn and hit the highway.
“There’s a difference. I remember everything from that night. For instance, I vividly remember your rejection.”
He flicked confused eyes at her. “What? I didn’t reject you.”
He sounded genuinely shocked, but she distinctly remembered looping her arms around his neck and telling him in no uncertain terms how much she wanted him. You’re so damn hot. Let’s fuck.
His response had humiliated her and cleared up the cloudiness in her brain. I don’t think so, Lindsay. Regret tastes particularly bitter in the morning.
“You did reject me. I heard what you said, but don’t worry, I won’t be throwing myself at you again.”
“What I said wasn’t meant to insult you. I—”
“Because I should be flattered you said you’d regret sleeping with me?”
“Would you listen!” He glared at her. “That wasn’t rejection. When I said regret tastes bitter in the morning, I was talking about you. I didn’t want you to regret sleeping with me in the state you were in. You’d been drinking, and I didn’t want to take advantage of you. Damn.” He shook his head and gripped the steering wheel, muttering under his breath.
All this time she thought his response had been rejection, when in reality he’d been…considerate? Way more thoughtful than other men would have been in the same situation.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.”
Malik drove in silence for a while, and Lindsay stared out the side window, folding her arms protectively around her torso. What was she even protecting herself against? Malik?
Ridiculous. She slid a covert glance at him from the corner of her eye. Not so ridiculous, actually. He was hot, sexy, and now she could add considerate to his list of traits. A bit of a chip on his shoulder, but definitely her type. B
ig and sexy. Look at the way the jacket sleeves gripped his biceps, and that beard—well, now she knew the texture was somewhere between soft and rough. She’d enjoy the sensation of the hairs against her sensitive nipples or between her thighs.
Whew. Biting her lower lip, she focused on the flash of lights and buildings going by. She was in trouble.
“Are you still up for Mexican or not?” he asked.
Lindsay shrugged. “Sure. I know all the good spots, if you’re interested.”
“Any of them on Buford Highway?”
“I’ve never eaten Mexican on Buford Highway,” she said slowly.
“You’ve never—” He broke off with a head shake.
Buford Highway, also known as International Corridor, contained an ethnically diverse community of mostly Asian- and Spanish-speaking people. With such a high concentration of foreign-born residents, there were a ton of restaurants that featured food choices from as close as Mexico and as far away as Vietnam, but Lindsay had never ventured there for Mexican food.
“I’ve been through there but never eaten there,” she said.
“That’s about to change tonight. I’ll take you to a spot that’s open late and has authentic Mexican. Everything is made from scratch, including the corn tortillas. Trust me, you’ll never be the same after you eat there. How can you say you like Mexican food and you’ve never been to a taqueria on Buford? That’s the real deal.”
“Since when did you become the expert on all things Mexican food?”
“Since I know where the hell to get the best in town.”
“Huh. I guess we’ll see.”
“Yeah, we’ll see.”
They didn’t speak to each other again until he pulled into a parking spot in front of a convenience store. They walked around to the side, where a small structure painted in green, red, and white was illuminated by bright lights. About fifteen people stood patiently in line, the majority of them Hispanic-looking.
Malik let Lindsay stand in line ahead of him. “What do you normally get?” she asked over her shoulder.
He bent close to her ear. “Every item on the menu is delicious, but I usually get a couple of tortas and two or three barbacoa tacos.”
Wild Thoughts Page 3
