Not before long, Cam checked his phone again for the millionth time. No sign of her. With a sigh, he slipped it in his pocket. He didn't even know why he was even stressing it. He had a handful of gorgeous women here. A man's wet dream. He had no reason to even be worrying about—
The sudden buzz in his pocket halted his thoughts. He pulled out his phone and looked at his screen. His mood lightened at the sight of her name, and he read the message.
Reesezilla:
12:30 am, 6/14/14
I'm here.
A smile lifted his lips. Just like he expected. He quickly typed his reply.
Cam:
12:30am, 6/14/14
Iight I'm on my way
*
Sexy wasn't even the word to describe her. The way her deep purple strapless dress emphasized the curvature of her frame, topped off with her black high inch stilettos that emitted her sexiness even more, he was captivated. Her smooth bronze skin seemed to glow against her purple attire, and the way her short spiky hair brought out her beautiful features, she couldn't look more flawless even if she tried. Her ample ass looked more than delicious through the satin material with its perfect, round shape, drawing his lustful gaze by the second. It took all the restraint in the world not to pin her up against the wall and drill her from behind. It pleased him to know she wore that tonight, just for him. Amongst all the women he invited to the party, she definitely reigned supreme.
He didn't even expect her to come out tonight. It threw him by surprise to see her standing in the main lobby waiting for him. But he was glad she did.
The sudden ding arose, as the elevator ascended to the next floor. Reese let out a deep breath, fluffing her hair through the reflection of the golden doors. He watched her, amused. She had been fidgeting since she got here.
"Nervous?"
She tucked her purse under her arm. "No, just wondering what the hell I'm getting myself into."
"Don't worry, you're gonna have a good time."
When they arrived on the 43rd level, his floor, they stepped out of the elevator and entered his foyer. She mumbled, 'wow' under her breath at the sight of his spacious home. His chest swelled with pride. The one thing he deemed an accomplishment, apart from his championship titles, was his penthouse. The 14 million dollar duplex, located in the heart of Manhattan, was a long way from the desolate projects he was used to. Now he could enjoy the luxury of his 2 bedroom home, built with a living room, open kitchen, 3 bathrooms, game room and a gym.
As her heels clicked across the black marble floor, she took notice to everything. The spiral staircase leading to the upper floor, to the white sofas in his living room, his large 50 inch plasma screen TV, his paintings, grand piano and more specifically the beautiful view of the New York City skyline, through the expansive glass windows circulating his home.
She was impressed. He could see it in her face.
"Want a tour?"
She blinked away. "It's fine."
"Well the party's this way."
He led her toward the back. They stepped onto the terrace, only to be welcomed by the upbeat sounds of rap music blaring the air. More people seemed to have loosened up now. With some dancing, others lounged around, laughing and chatting. Just what he liked to see. Reese scanned the place tentatively. He touched her lower back, grasping her attention.
"You want something to drink?" he spoke in her ear.
She nodded.
"What would you like?"
"Uh, I'll take a Rum and Coke."
"Alright, I'll be back," he told her before walking toward the bar.
"Aye, Pete," he called to his most trusted bartender.
"Si, amigo?" the dark haired, Peruvian listened, wiping the table with a rag.
"Let me get a Goose on the rocks, and a Rum and Coke."
"Sure thing, boss." He grabbed a glass and prepared the drink.
Cam leaned his back against the table, peering at the crowd. And there he found Reese at the corner, seated on the plush seat by her lonesome. She sat upright, with her hands linked around her fidgeting knees, glancing around. He shook his head. She looked so tense. He had to loosen her up somehow.
"Aye Pete, make sure you add more Rum to that Coke."
"Gotchya." He nodded, following his request.
When Pete slid him the drinks, he thanked him and left the bar. He approached her, now holding two glasses, and sat next to her.
"Here you go." He handed her the drink.
"Thanks," she said briefly, taking it from him.
He leaned back and took a sip of his drink, watching her. As she tasted hers, she scrunched her face.
"It's strong." She smelled it with a frown. "Too much rum."
"Want me to take it back?"
"No, it's fine."
He eased with relief.
"So, what made you come out tonight?"
"I have no idea." She placed her glass on the small round table. "Must be losing my mind."
"Nah, you made the right choice."
"Well, I have to admit I thought it would be worse than this."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I expected naked strippers."
"Naked strippers?" He laughed.
She nodded, sliding her hands under her thighs. A particular area he kept being drawn to.
"And why's that?"
"Because, isn't that how you usually party? Naked strippers, rowdy men throwing dollar bills—" She gasped in shock. "Oh my god."
"What?" he said, concerned.
"Is that who I think it is?"
"Who?" He followed her gaze ahead.
"Jill Scott?”
"Huh?" He took notice to his good friend, Ms. Scott, lounging at the corner, socializing with two of her friends. "Oh, yeah it is."
"I love her."
"You wanna meet her?"
She froze. "Meet her?"
"Yeah."
"Uh, I don't know. I wouldn't know what to say."
"Don't even worry about it. She's cool. C'mon." He stood up.
"Wait, I don't think I shou—"
"I promise she won't bite."
She gnawed her lip for a moment, thinking.
"Fine." She picked up her glass and gulped her whole drink down. He couldn't help but laugh.
He then led her to Jill Scott and introduced her. And Jill welcomed her with a warm hug, as Reese expressed how much of a big fan she was. While they conversed, he ordered another drink at the bar. He then made his way to Reese and handed her a glass of Pineapple Cîroc. Too enthralled with Jill's presence, she took it without question. She must've been too nervous to care. Probably, even grateful for it.
He then approached his boys, Deshawn and Bryson, who were cuddled up with four models by the balcony.
"Nigga, who is that?" Bryson asked, blowing clouds of his spliff.
"Word, where'd you find her at?" Deshawn chimed in.
"Met her through my publicist."
"She a model or something?" asked Bryson.
"Nah. Some CEO of this organization my charity is funding."
"Oh word? Damn. She's a bad one. You hittin' that?"
"Nah. Just business." He leaned against the railing, staring at her. She seemed to be much more at ease now, smiling with glee as she spoke with Jill. He couldn't even pull his eyes off of her. She had such a beautiful smile. The way it managed to just radiate her entire face, emitting such a warm light that could make even the coldest man melt to mush. He wondered why she didn't smile more often. She was so much sexier when she did.
"Nigga, yeah right."
He turned to Bryson who shot him a distrustful look.
"It's never just business with you. Be real, you tapping some CEO pussy, ain't you?"
"And is it good?" Deshawn added.
He smirked, finishing the last of his drink.
"I already told ya'll, it's just business. Anyway, I'll check ya'll in a bit," he said lastly, before walking away. He approached Reese as she and Jill parted ways.
"What?" He asked, wondering why she was so jittery.
"Jill just offered to sing at the concert for my organization. I didn't even have to ask her, she just offered to do it. Just like that. Do you know what this would mean to Free The Heart if she were to sing? Gosh, that would mean everything!"
"Uh, that's good."
She bit her lip with a smile. "C'mon, let's celebrate."
She grabbed his hands before he could utter another word and dragged him to the bar. She stumbled into the table, but quickly regained her balance.
"Let me get a shot of Tequila please," she ordered then spun to Cam. "And what would you like?"
Before he could respond, she waved him off. "Actually, he'll have one too."
He gave her wary look, her behavior odd.
"Uh, you good?"
"Mhmm, couldn't be better."
When the bartender handed her the drinks, she took her shot. Gasping out a breath, she patted her chest at the strong taste.
"Whoo!" She slammed the glass down, then frowned at him. "Aren't you drinking yours?"
"Nah, I'm straight."
"Fine, I'll have it." She took his and gulped it down. "Whoo!"
He grinned, watching her. He could tell the effects of the liquor were hitting her now. He probably should've stopped her out of courtesy, but just seeing her this way entertained him.
"C'mon let's dance."
She grabbed his hand and led him to the dance floor.
Chapter 15
Reese massaged her scalp, fighting to stay awake. It took every bit of her strength not to sprawl herself on this couch and drift right off to sleep.
Stupid her, for drinking so damn much.
How could she allow herself to be so irresponsible, especially since she had plans on driving home tonight? That's what her ass deserved for coming out to this party in the first place. Why she even decided to do so, she had no idea. But it was stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
It was now after 4, and here she was, still in his home. All of his guests had long gone. She would've too, had she been in the proper condition to drive. Although she wasn't extremely drunk, she was definitely teetering along those lines. Sober enough to be cognitive of her behavior, but drunk enough not to drive her ass home.
"Here you go."
She lifted her gaze to the glass of water in Cameron's hand. With a soft ‘thank you’, she took it from him and drank a long gulp, savoring the cold liquid as it glided down her throat. Her throat was so dry. Her head felt heavy. And everything around her continued to spin. God, she hoped she wouldn't wake up with a hangover tomorrow.
"You sure you don't want me to take you home?"
Reese shook her head. She needed her car in the morning.
He plopped himself on the opposite end of the sofa. "You could stay the night, if you want."
She gave him a stern look.
"Relax. I didn't mean like that. I got an extra room you could sleep in."
"I'm fine."
"Alright, suit yourself." He slouched more comfortably, turning on the TV.
She folded her legs under her derriere, glancing around his spacious home. She still couldn't get over how big it was. It must've cost him a fortune to afford a penthouse in the middle of New York City.
"Why do you have so many pictures of yourself?" She asked, staring at the large paintings of himself mounted around his home like a museum. Each portrait, painted in black and white, displayed images of him boxing. It brought her back to the pictures at his gym.
"Why not?"
"It's so...narcissistic."
"Nothing wrong with having pictures of yourself at your own crib."
Typical.
She searched around for any sight of family portraits but saw none.
"No family pictures?"
"Family?"
When he snorted, she turned to him and he focused on the TV. "Don't have any."
"No siblings?" She wondered.
"Nah. Just me."
That surprised her.
She could very much relate to that.
She gazed at all the expensive things that filled his spacious home, only to gain a sense emptiness that emitted through the atmosphere. Even with all the nice things, it all just felt so...lonely. She could pick up on it so well, because her own home gave her the same feeling. Living alone, with no family to share anything with, brought such a deep hollowness in her spirit she could never fully erase, no matter how much she tried.
"What about you?"
She jolted out of her thoughts. "Hmm?"
"Any siblings?"
"No."
Yawning, she curled her body against his sofa, as she rested her head on the armrest. She promised she would leave in just a few, she just had to sober up a little bit more.
"Cold?”
She shook her head, yawning again.
As she laid there, her gaze slowly traced his biceps in the white crew neck Tshirt he wore. She took in every definition of his muscular arms coated in his rich dark mocha skin, even those deep set of veins bulging across his triceps to the faint hairs surfacing across his forearms. Heat rushed between her legs without warning, and she blinked away.
She forced herself up, and stumbled a bit as she stood on her feet.
"Can I use your bathroom?"
"Yeah, it's down the hall on your right."
Trudging her bare feet across the cold floor, she held her balance as best she could as she made her way down the hall. Slight dizziness marred her senses and she slowed her steps. It became clear that she still wasn't in the right state of mind to drive. Maybe she should just ask him to take her home. But what sense would that make if she needed her car in the morning? Thank goodness she was off tomorrow, or she would've hated herself even more. How pathetic that a grown, 38 year old woman was acting like a damn teenager with no sense? Never again.
She entered the bathroom, only to be taken aback.
Wow.
Even his bathroom was gorgeous. The gold marble floors, the sleek granite countertop and spotless toilet were in immaculate condition. It was as though it had never been touched. She never expected Cameron to be so...clean. And it was such a relief. Lord knows, nothing turned her off more than a dirty man.
Reese looked at her reflection. Shit! She looked a mess. Her reddened eyes were glazed as though she were high out of her mind and if the cops were to pull her over right this minute, they would definitely lock her ass up. She fluffed her now sweated out hair before smoothing down the sides, then adjusted her strapless dress that did nothing but cause her discomfort from her sudden body heat. She tore a piece of tissue, dampened it, and wiped her smeared lipstick. She wanted so much to wash off her make-up right now, disgusted at the unsightly sheen of her oily skin.
"What the hell are you doing here, Reese?" She mumbled with a sigh.
She shook her head and left the bathroom. As she made her way to the living room, she found him in the kitchen, peering through his fridge.
"I don't mean to overstay my welcome," She apologized, standing by the island. "This is very unlike me."
"It's cool. Don't even worry about it."
"No, I shouldn't even be here this late. As soon as I'm in the right condition to drive, I'll lea—"
"Reese." He faced her. "If I wanted you gone, I would've kicked you out a long time ago."
She fell silent.
He turned to the fridge. "You want anything?"
"A bottle of water, thanks."
He grabbed one and handed it to her. He then took a can of Pepsi, before closing the fridge. She took deep gulps of the water to clear the dryness in her throat. She had no idea why she was so thirsty. And hot. When she felt his stare, she met his gaze and her face warmed. She blinked away.
"What?" She closed the bottle.
"Nothing." He leaned his back against the counter top, opening his can.
"I don't usually do this."
"Do what?"
"Drink this much."
He took a sip. "I ain't judging."
"Sure. You're probably thinking how much of a fool I made of myself tonight."
Just the thought of her gallivanting around, dancing on tables and acting a mess made her shudder. God, she was such a sloppy drunk.
"Nah, not at all. I liked seeing the real you."
"The real me?" She lifted a brow.
"Yeah."
"You don't even know me to make that assessment."
He stared at her for a moment.
"Okay." He nodded.
She rolled her eyes, disregarding his snide tone.
"You play pool?"
"What?" She looked at him.
"Pool, the game. You play?"
"Yeah why?"
"How about a round?"
"What?"
He left the kitchen. Puzzled, she followed him. He led her into a separate room which entailed a pool table, mounted plasma screen TV and beanbag chairs at the corner of the room. Just like the majority of his home, large glass windows enclosed the room, revealing the gorgeous view of Manhattan. For the first time, she took notice to the violet skies, tinted with the subtle array of orange exuded by the rising sun across the horizon. The hell! Why in the world was she still here?
"Cameron, what time is it?"
He glanced at his watch. "5:45."
Her eyes widened. "Five forty-what?" She quickly shook her head. "No, I gotta get home. I shouldn't be here right now."
"One game."
"At this time of the day?"
"Yeah."
"You can't be serious."
She couldn't think of a person any more random.
He grabbed the two rods from the table. "You gotta work in the morning?"
"No, but that's not the point. It's late and—"
He handed her the stick. "Here."
She looked at him like he was crazy. Was he out of his mind?
"Just one game."
With a long sigh, she snatched it from him. "Fine."
He gathered the balls scattered across the table and placed them in a triangular rack, setting them at the center. She stared out the window, shaking her head. She couldn't believe she was even doing this.
He rubbed the tip of his stick with the chalk. "How about we switch things up?"
Hook'd Page 8
