Chief Parker, six feet, short red hair, and ex-Marine preened at Sky’s calculated but also genuine compliment. Mosby nodded, and Gordon smiled. After that, the meeting ran smoothly with members agreeing on what they needed to submit to Sky’s executive administrative assistant for the report. As committee chair, the final responsibility of writing the report fell to Sky.
“Once I have a solid draft, you’ll receive an email request for feedback.” Sky stood, her frame tall and lean, posture straight and unyielding. “Thank you. I know there’s been a lot of leadership change at EBC over the last five years. I also know how hard everyone works to offer high-quality academic experiences for all our students. But academic excellence is made that much harder to achieve if we have low social, emotional, and cultural intelligence. Next school year, we’ll begin discussing those big rocks of change.”
A lofty and difficult goal for the new Director of Diversity & Inclusion. Eastern Bluebird College was like most other institutions, entrenched in outdated modes of thinking and behaving. He hoped Sky knew what an uphill battle she would have to wage if she thought to change the hearts, minds, and actions of faculty, staff and administrators.
Malcolm worked at EBC for a decade, only becoming department chair a year earlier. He’d learned a lot about the college in those ten years. One, people talked a good game about diversity, equity and inclusion, including the president and trustees. Two, when it came to matching action and/or money to words, people often fell short.
Sky’s predecessor, twenty years her senior, had resigned. Dr. Mitchell’s curriculum vitae spanned an impressive sixteen pages, his articles, books, and presentations comprising the bulk of his CV. Malcolm supposed those sixteen pages may have also explained the older man’s arrogance. Still, Dr. Mitchell, like Sky, had arrived at EBC with fresh ideas and a passion for the work. The man left under a cloud of frustration.
Tender feelings for Sky aside, Malcolm didn’t want Dr. Mitchell’s fate to also be Sky’s. The president had, literally, selected a hire opposite to Dr. Mitchell in the more obvious ways of defining diversity. An under forty African American female from out of state. Dr. Sky Ellis, private-school educated, articulate and gorgeous, was now the face of diversity and inclusion at EBC.
As a member of the Diversity Progress Committee and part of the initial screening team, he’d seen her resume, along with the other applicants’. Her qualifications, while not as extensive as Dr. Mitchell’s, were impressive for a thirty-five-year-old. She’d earned the position, for sure, but it galled him that too many people would think Sky an affirmative action hire and nothing more. As if affirmative action meant unqualified. It didn’t, but the truth never stopped people from railing against a policy they disagreed with or judging someone unfairly.
Malcolm took his time gathering meeting handouts and shoving them in his messenger bag with his laptop. He made a show of pushing in vacated chairs and turning off the computer and projector Sky had used to display data tables. Malcolm performed each task with slow deliberateness, going for helpful and not stalker behavior, as Angie now referred to his interactions with Sky.
“I’m sure the cleaning crew will appreciate you saving them a whole three minutes of straightening up after us barbarians. You missed an empty water bottle, by the way.”
“That’s your water bottle.”
“Do you plan on throwing it away for me?”
“Why should I? You’re standing in front of it, and the trash can is by the door. You can throw it away on your way out.”
Sky retrieved her cell phone from beside her water bottle on the table she stood in front of. Malcolm watched her press the screen a few times.
The cell phone in his pants pocket vibrated.
Sky smiled at him, and Malcolm pulled the phone out. He had one text message. A very short message. A single image, in fact, of a smiling pumpkin emoji.
“You’re terrible at this. That’s your comeback?”
“Yes, what’s wrong with it?”
“It’s April. Halloween isn’t for six months.”
“What’s the point of having a creepy-looking pumpkin on my phone if I can’t use it whenever I feel like it?”
Malcolm couldn’t tell if Sky was serious or joking. Either way, he enjoyed the moments like these when she let her guard down and relaxed.
“I suppose you send Christmas emojis on Thanksgiving.”
“Of course. Everyone knows Thanksgiving is just a really early Christmas Eve.”
Sky grabbed her blazer from off her chair. A classy red jacket that, when paired with her black outfit, made a bold statement. Sky may love her blacks, blues and dark-grays, but she spiced up her ensemble with a splash of color. Today, it was her red jacket and sexy pair of black-and-red heel shoes. With the additional lift, Sky managed his five-ten height.
Malcolm’s mind wandered, seeing Sky wearing those killer heels and nothing else while they had sex from behind. Hand fisted in her thick, wavy hair, the other fondling a breast, Malcolm deep and grinding, Sky wet, moaning, and—
A hand waved in front of his face. “Where did you go?”
“What? What? Oh, nowhere. I’m here.”
“You mean you’re back.” Sky held her jacket in one hand and used the other to grab her soft leather briefcase and the plastic bottle. “I don’t know about you, but I have to go. I have another meeting in ninety minutes.”
“Perfect. That’ll give us enough time to have an early dinner.”
“Dinner? As in a date?”
Yes, as in a date, but Malcolm knew the difference between pushing and pulling. If he pushed the issue of dating and an office romance, Sky would pull up stakes and bolt. If he, however, cast out a net of friendship, allowing her to take the bait on her terms, pulling Sky in would be the catch of his life.
“Just dinner. On campus, if you like.”
“Just dinner?”
“Look, you know I want more. But you made your feelings clear about dating a coworker. I may not agree, but that’s my problem, not yours.”
“Okay, so why the dinner invitation?”
“Everyone needs a friend, Sky. The first time you called the committee together, you spoke about the importance of collaboration, collegiality, and communication. You have a lot on your plate right now and don’t know the ins and outs of EBC. I can help you with that. The committee report, too, if you like.”
When a single eyebrow winged up, Malcolm knew Sky wouldn’t be pulled in any direction she didn’t wish to go, no more than she’d swallowed his well-worded bait.
“You’re hoping I’ll change my mind about dating you.”
Malcolm saw no reason to conceal his intention. “Yes. You’re so much of what I want in a partner. I think if you let yourself get to know me better, you’ll find I’m much of what you want in a man.”
“You have no idea what I want in a man or a relationship. I don’t have time for either, anyway.”
They stood no more than five feet from each other. Sky’s hands were full, posture rigid, and her conviction unwavering. Words wouldn’t topple Sky from her pedestal of self-imposed isolation. He had no idea why she chose to live atop it or what in her life had driven her to build it in the first place. One thing Malcolm did know was that if he didn’t kiss her now, he might never get another chance.
With one long step, Malcolm closed the distance between them. Sky’s eyes were even greener up close, which she widened at his unexpected nearness. She opened her mouth. Malcolm would never know what she’d been about to say because he crushed his lips to hers before the first syllable left her mouth.
Being desperate to have a taste of Sky didn’t equate to a hard, rough first kiss. Malcolm’s lips pressed into hers, soft and slow, enticing instead of demanding. He breathed her in through his nose, the scent of rose and patchouli, and breathed her out in their shared kiss.
The hand not holding his messenger bag slipped around Sky’s taut waist and pulled her to him. The loose embrace wouldn’t
hold her if she didn’t want to be there. The same way his unforced and unrushed kisses wouldn’t prevent her from wrenching her mouth from his.
Sky returned the kiss, an erotic little sigh her acquiescence. She still held her bag and jacket, which meant she couldn’t hold him the way Malcolm wanted. That was okay. She could make it up to him the next time they were alone. But there, in the conference room, where anyone on the third floor could walk past the open door and catch them kissing, had Malcolm pulling back.
He’d ruined her lipstick, which meant his mouth bore the evidence of his reckless action. But he had to taste her, even if it meant her laying him out with her words or fists.
“We shouldn’t have done that.”
We. He respected her acknowledgment of her role in the kiss. Apparently, Sky took responsibility in every aspect of her life, not just as a professional.
“It’s been building since the first day we met. If I waited for you to make the first move, it would’ve never happened.”
“I don’t want to do this.”
“Kiss me?”
“You know what I’m talking about. Dating and sex between colleagues is a recipe for disaster.” Sky found a tissue in her briefcase, wiped her lipstick off him and then reapplied more to her own lips. “If we worked at different schools, I wouldn’t have reservations about exploring the attraction we share. As a woman, especially an African American woman, I have to think through every action and how they could be perceived by others.”
“You mean misinterpreted.”
“Yes. I know you understand my predicament.”
He did. His sister waded through the same sexist and racist waters of academia Sky alluded to. Malcolm didn’t want to do anything that could mar Sky’s image and reputation. At the same time, why must Sky deny herself a chance at romantic happiness by adhering to an unrealistic and biased double standard? Angie’s married status insulated her from the potential judgment of a private relationship played out in the public eye of campus life.
“Have dinner with me before your next meeting. I’m starving.” A wink and a swipe of tongue over his bottom then upper lip, emphasized the double entendre Sky would’ve caught without the gestures.
She rolled her eyes upward and shook her head. Malcolm wanted to kiss her again—a long, deep kiss with tongue and hands. He glanced at the open door. No one was there, but he could hear people talking in a part of the hallway he couldn’t see.
“Dinner and discussion. My offer to help you with the report and give you the inside scoop on all things EBC stands. The offer isn’t conditional. We need a strong person to lead the Office of Diversity & Inclusion and this committee.”
“You think that’s me?”
“I think you can do most anything you set your mind to. If you want it badly enough.”
“No wink and lip licking this time?”
“No, you already admitted to wanting me.” She hadn’t said that exactly, but Sky didn’t correct the liberty he’d taken with her words. “But you don’t yet want me badly enough to take a risk.”
Without a word, Sky slipped from around him. When she reached the conference room door, she dropped the plastic bottle into the recycle trash can. Back to him, he couldn’t see what she was doing.
A few seconds later, his phone beeped. Smiling, Malcolm reached for it and saw Sky’s message. Again, no text but an emoji. A Mr. Grinch smiley face wearing a red-and-white Christmas hat.
He laughed.
She exited the room. But not before saying, “Let’s have dinner, Dr. Styles. I’m also very hungry.”
3
Dr. Styles is here to see you.”
The mere mention of the professor’s name sent conflicting waves of heat and cold through Sky. She held her office phone pressed to her ear, knowing Kelly, her executive administrative assistant, awaited her response. Sky had no meeting to rush off to, so she couldn’t use that as an excuse to not see Malcolm. Unless, of course, she lied, which she had no intention of doing. She also had nothing on her desk so important she couldn’t tear herself away for a few minutes.
While the Susan B. Anthony Hall, where Malcolm’s African American Studies office suite and classes were held, wasn’t on the other side of campus, the building also wasn’t next door. He’d taken time out of his busy schedule to speak with her, and Sky, despite the pounding of her heart at the prospect of seeing him again, wanted to melt into the hardwood floor and disappear under the planks of her attraction and splintering self-control.
“Give me a minute, Kelly, and then send Dr. Styles in.”
She hung up the phone and leaned back in her chair, taking slow, deep breaths. Sky hadn’t seen Malcolm since they had dinner after the committee meeting a week ago. They’d talked the entire hour they spent together, Malcolm keeping the conversation light and about EBC. Sky had found herself enjoying his company, particularly his openness and intelligence.
Dr. Malcolm Styles possessed a kind, sweet nature that must’ve cost him in the romance department. He wore his heart open for the world to see, which should’ve made him vulnerable to heartache. Yet, the longer the man spoke, the more Sky viewed his tenderheartedness as a strength to be respected instead of a flaw to be criticized.
They viewed the world through different lenses. Yet, they’d ended up at the same college engaged in similar work. Talking to Malcolm felt easy and right, which made her decision to keep their relationship platonic even more important. She couldn’t permit herself to get caught up in carnal desires and wishes for happily-ever-afters.
Yet… Sky raised a finger to her lips and recalled the feel of Malcolm’s against them. She’d known, when he’d invaded her personal space, what the professor intended to do. Sky had a second to decide if she would allow him to kiss her. It had been the longest second of her life.
When she’d felt Malcolm’s warm breath against her face, smelled the fresh, light scent of his aftershave, and tasted the soft, plumpness of his lips, Sky battled the urge to moan into his mouth and deepen the kiss. She’d wanted to know the taste and texture of his tongue, the touch and sensation of his hands on her heated, naked body, and the slide and thrust of his sex into her aching need.
She wanted Malcolm Styles, which meant she could never have him. A man like him, romantic, supportive, flexible, didn’t need a woman like Sky, conservative, rigid, stubborn.
A knock came.
“Come in.” Sky pushed to her feet the same moment Malcolm opened her office door. Good manners should’ve had her moving from behind her desk and greeting Malcolm as he entered her office. Instead, she plastered on an awkward smile and didn’t comment when he closed the door behind him. “It’s good to see you again, Dr. Styles.”
“Dr. Styles? I thought we moved past titles and last names when we had dinner last week. I’m Malcolm, and you’re Sky.”
She remembered everything about their dinner, including how spectacular Malcolm looked in his black suit. Styles was a too apt name for the tall, lean man before her. Malcolm dressed the part of an upwardly mobile professional in his well-fitted dark suits. The man even wore vests. Shoes polished to a shine and face clean-shaven, Malcolm Styles looked ready to conquer the corporate world.
But what had Sky planting herself behind her desk and not daring to venture too close to Malcolm’s alluring sun, lest she burns upon contact, were his long dreadlocks. She knew they fell in neat waves of black coils halfway down his back. Today, however, he wore them in a braided style. The locks were pulled up into an intricate knot, revealing his strong jawline and a diamond stud earring.
Damn, Sky wanted too much to suck the stud and the lobe of his ear into her mouth while tugging his hair free so she could run her hands through the thick, heavy texture. How would all that long hair feel between her fingers? More, how would Malcolm, with his hair spilling over her thighs, look between her legs, his tongue driving into her, Sky’s hips meeting his mouth, her hands—
“What are you thinking about? Because you
sure as hell weren’t listening to me.”
Malcolm’s overconfident smirk let her know he knew where she’d wandered off to and that he didn’t mind her mental journey.
“Why are you here?”
“Am I interrupting?”
“I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t care. You didn’t make an appointment. And why are you looking at me like that?”
“Where’s today’s splash of color?”
“What are you talking about?”
Malcolm continued to stare at her. He moved closer, walking to the side of her desk and taking Sky in from head to toe. “Your splash of color. You always wear something to contrast with the dark colors you like to wear. Red jacket, purple scarf, bright-blue belt, colorful necklaces and earrings. You know, your splash of color.”
He’d invaded her space again, his too-observant gaze roaming her body. She stepped back, which wasn’t far considering a wide bookshelf covered much of the wall behind her desk.
A splash of color. She’d never thought of her proclivity to brighten her day by wearing a color she wouldn’t ordinarily wear as a “splash of color” in her otherwise monochrome wardrobe. Malcolm saw too much with those dark-brown eyes of his. From experience, men who saw too much had the tendency to think they knew Sky on a level that left her feeling exposed and vulnerable.
“Here it is.” With a broad triumphant grin, Malcolm lifted her leather handbag with a peacock design from the top rail of the chair, looking like a kid who’d won an Easter egg hunt. “I knew it.” Malcolm ran a hand over the bag. “This is really nice. Hand painted?”
“Yes.”
“Expensive too.”
“A little. Are you an expert in handbags, Dr. Styles?”
“Why, are you angling to charm a gift out of me, Dr. Ellis?”
He batted his eyelashes at her, long, dark, and… shit, those two words had Sky thinking about another part of the sexy professor that was probably also long and dark.
Seduction in a Suit: An Office Romance Collection Page 43
