Passionate Game (Kimani Hotties)

by Monkou, Michelle

  “I wish you’d stop acting so weird,” Tamara complained.

  “Why? Because my faith has been restored? I was thinking that you needed major intervention to step out there and have a romantic fling.”

  “Romance isn’t for everyone, Miss Bleeding Heart Romantic Fanatic.”

  “I think you just cursed at me. Whatever! I can’t help believing in love.”

  Becky would always be the bright light in the stormy waters of falling in love. No matter how many times she got her heart broken, she got right up on that horse and rode toward the windmills with her happy thoughts. That was a trip that Tamara didn’t plan to take, unless it was on her terms. There would be no falling in love. Tamara would very carefully walk down that path without the head trip that some women went through.

  Becky now lay across her bed, her head propped up on her hand. “Could you move any slower?” Her impatience settled over the room.

  Tamara waved off Becky’s irritation. “Stop giving me the evil eye. At least I am out of the bathroom.”

  “Took you long enough. You were acting as if you hadn’t showered in months.” Becky sat up. Now her irritation gave way to excitement again. “So where are you going?”

  Tamara shrugged. “I was too in shock to remember to ask such questions.”

  “Then how can we decide if the outfit should be formal, evening-elegant, casual or torn-jean attire?”

  Tamara shook her head. “I told him that this was a business meeting.”

  “Yeah, you said that to me, and I don’t get that. Stop playing hard to get. What’s his only crime? That he’s rich?”

  “I don’t have a problem with his wealth.” Tamara was okay with the small lie.

  “Please, I know how you think. You’re in your Caped Crusader mode, off to save the masses.” Becky wrapped the bedsheet around her shoulders and struck a fierce pose. “He is the powerful tycoon who has done wrong just by enjoying his wealth and success. The poor man won’t stand a chance with your crazy mind-set.”

  “That’s nonsense.” Tamara hated when Becky could pick her apart. “Anyway, spare him the sympathy card. You should have heard him earlier today.”

  “Heard what you thought he said? Or heard what he actually said? One day, I’ll be so lucky to meet someone like him.” Becky closed her eyes. A dreamy smile wavered on her mouth.

  If anyone deserved happiness and a good man, it was Becky. She was a sweet soul, with so much patience and trust that men took advantage of her kindness. Between her and Becky, they hadn’t had too many successful relationships. And yet, Becky wasn’t afraid to dip her toe, her leg, her entire being into that romantic pool of love. Well, one of them needed to stay on the shore to pull the other to safety.

  Tamara was up for the role of lifeguard. When she found a mate worthy of her standards, she still didn’t plan to demand marriage vows that would be broken upon the least temptation. She was going in with eyes wide open and the panic button ready to be pushed, just in case.

  “I want to go with casual business,” Tamara declared.

  “Boring.”

  “That’s the idea,” Tamara replied.

  “You know, I’m beginning to think that it’s not that you’re playing hard to get.”

  Tamara headed to her closet. Becky was about to go on a psychoanalytical rant.

  “You don’t want to be swayed by this man. You can play indifferent with someone else, but I’ve noticed how you light up when we talk about him.” Becky walked to the side of her bed and retrieved a hardcover book. “And you read this biography on him as if you were studying for a test.”

  Tamara ran her hand over her blouses. She pretended to study one then another. Protesting would only confirm Becky’s observations. She pulled out a beige top.

  “Oh, no, not that one. You look like a missionary ready to perform some conversions. And in this case, we need him to convert to you. He’ll have his work cut out for him. Those clothes that you’re planning to wear would make a man snooze.”

  Tamara shook her head at her friend’s silliness.

  “That’s how I keep out of trouble. You, on the other hand, have attracted nothing but trouble with your crazy get-ups. And when things get out of hand, I get blamed.”

  Their last year in high school came to mind. Becky had thought it was a good idea to go on the hunt for a prom date at her older brother’s college campus. Not only did they get caught for skipping school, but they got in a lot of hot water for pretending they were older. Becky usually instigated, but Tamara was gullible enough to take on the challenge. They’d get caught, and immediately everyone thought that Tamara was solely at fault.

  “And you’ve earned my best-friend-forever status.” Becky giggled.

  “You’re so kind.” Tamara could never stay mad at her friend. They were soul sisters, through thick and thin.

  “Now, how about this outfit?” Becky had joined her in the closet to select clothes.

  “That pair of pants doesn’t work. A bit on the tight side.” Tamara patted her hips. A few inches always managed to play hide-and-seek around her hips, making her curvier than she’d prefer.

  “Nothing wrong with skintight. Wear a long blouse, if that’ll make you comfortable.”

  “I’m not trying to hold my breath for the entire evening.” As it was, she’d be having all kinds of breathing issues whenever she came into close proximity to Grant. Worrying about popping the button from her pants in front of a hunky man was an experience that she’d rather avoid.

  “Pull out that pair of black jeans. Now grab that electric blue top.”

  “What if it gets cold?” Tamara eyed the lightweight fabric and low-scooped neckline.

  “Then wear this black blazer. You’ll look all slim and trim in the black. And the blue will light up your face.”

  Tamara slipped on the clothes. She had to admit that Becky’s picks did work.

  Becky pointed to her feet. “Shoes?”

  “Flats.”

  “Boring.”

  “This is business.”

  “You sound like a broken record. Anyway, who is in control?” Becky was on her knees, pulling out shoes for closer inspection.

  “Sometimes, I’m not sure.” Tamara sighed.

  “Then take control of one thing—his sexual appetite. I’ll be right back.” Becky left the room but hurried back with her latest shoe purchase.

  “You want me to control Grant’s sexual appetite with your three-and-a-half-inch stilettos?”

  “Yeah, baby. These heels will make your hips do that slinky, sexy walk.”

  Tamara didn’t doubt the claim. She slipped her feet into the shoes. Immediately her calves tightened and she had to readjust her body weight to balance on the balls of her feet. But what if she tripped and took a nosedive at Grant’s feet?

  She tilted her feet from side to side to admire the design of the heels. A tightly woven lattice pattern covered the top of her foot, while her heels were bare in the slingbacks.

  Without warning, Becky pushed her down on the edge of the bed. She set down her makeup bag. “We don’t have much time.” The transformation took exactly ten minutes. Then Becky wiped her brow, rolled up the makeup bag and motioned her to the bathroom mirror.

  Tamara stared at her reflection. “Hot diggity. I like this.” Tamara turned her head from side to side. Wearing makeup wasn’t something new, but in her hectic life, she usually managed to put on only light foundation and lip color. Becky was able to make her look striking, giving the complete outfit a more sophisticated appeal. She glanced at the clock.

  The buzz of the intercom signaled Grant’s arrival. Becky left the room in a whirl of expectation.

  Tamara remained in front of the mirror. It was time for her meeting with Grant. Her pulse felt like a pack of Pop R
ocks, and she took a deep, unsteady breath.

  “Ah, Tamara, your date is here.” Becky stepped into the room with a blinding grin.

  “Okay.” Tamara took a deep breath.

  “Wait.” Becky sprayed a mist of perfume in front of her. “Hurry, walk through.”

  Tamara complied, feeling the perfume lightly settle on her skin. She didn’t expect Grant to get close enough to appreciate the scent, but adding the extra touch couldn’t hurt. Tamara took another fortifying breath before exiting her bedroom to face the man who made her feel like a shy schoolgirl on her first date.

  Chapter 7

  Grant had to have a date with Tamara. There was no way that he could continue in his state of mind, contemplating all sorts of sexy thoughts about her. He didn’t appreciate feeling out of control, either. It was an alien state of being for him.

  But he hadn’t expected this attack of nerves. He felt as if he was on a prom date, especially now that he was waiting for her to emerge from the bedroom.

  Usually his other dates were picked up by his driver and brought to wherever he waited. He had a limo pick up the ladies partly to impress but mostly to be emotionally distant. Taking out Tamara didn’t fall under either category.

  He suspected that she wasn’t one to fall for his bravado. And how could he remain emotionally distant when his mind and body were in active discord with that tactic?

  “Hi, Grant.” Tamara emerged from the bedroom.

  “Beautiful,” he said. It was the first word that came to mind.

  “Huh?”

  “You are beautiful.” He could have added a few more adjectives to completely encapsulate what he felt. But simplicity seemed to be more appropriate for this evening.

  “Thank you. Shall we go?”

  “Then let’s go.” All of a sudden, his throat was dry. Thoughts scrambled into full chaos.

  “Becky, we’re out of here.”

  The woman who had opened the door emerged from a room. She kept grinning at him, and he could only imagine what Tamara had said. Maybe he should be grateful that she wasn’t scowling.

  “Have a nice time, you two. Don’t rush home.”

  Grant bit his cheek to keep from laughing. Tamara’s embarrassment clearly showed on her face. He had to hurry after her as she exited through the front door.

  “You have a nice place. Pretty big.” He attempted small talk, hoping to ease the tension.

  “I share it with my friend.”

  Grant noted the defensive tone that immediately colored her response. He hadn’t meant to sound critical. The apartment had surprised him, with its definitely upscale zip code and expansive floor plan. Despite her involvement with helping the disadvantaged, she lived a comfy lifestyle. Nothing wrong with that, but he found it to be strangely in conflict with her attitude.

  “How long have you been living there?” he probed.

  “Only a year. It’s a gift from my father.”

  “Very nice gift.”

  She only nodded.

  He led the way out of the building to the parking garage.

  “Oh, you’re driving?” She looked beyond where he stood.

  “Yep. I don’t have any driving violations. At least not any recent ones.” He grinned as he opened her door. “Don’t you trust me?”

  “That’s a loaded question. I think it can only be answered on a case-by-case basis.”

  “Got to work on that,” he muttered. He closed the car door and walked over to his side of the vehicle.

  When he slid behind the steering wheel, his arm brushed against hers where it rested on the middle console. Even through the layers of clothing, his body reacted as if it were skin-to-skin contact. All he wanted to do was to cover her hand with his and interlock his fingers with her long, slender ones.

  He half closed his eyes as he breathed in her soft scent, which evoked imagery of warm spices and tropical romantic breezes. He wanted to bathe her body with his touch. And then with his tongue he wanted to follow the scintillating path of her perfume to all its erotic points of contact.

  He started the car. Its roar to life matched his internal engine, which was revved on high sexual octane. Now he had the difficult task of keeping his cool for the next three hours.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “If you’re going to enjoy the evening.”

  “I think you have a sense of what I would enjoy, what I wouldn’t care to do and how I would react.”

  “Sounds like you’re giving me a challenge...and a threat.” He grinned. Suddenly testing her boundaries was quite tempting.

  “Where are we going?” She looked out the window, peering up at the buildings and reading aloud the street signs. She turned a puzzled frown toward him.

  “You’ll see. We’re almost there.” Grant slowed as he approached congestion. Each block closer to his destination had more traffic and more pedestrians swarming the sidewalks and even spilling into the streets.

  “The stadium, that’s where we’re going? Oh, my. We’re going to a basketball game?”

  Grant nodded. “I’m afraid to ask, but is that okay?”

  “Oh, yeah. I would have never guessed. Becky and I were thinking of all the possible places.” She laughed. “I didn’t know what to wear.”

  “We’ll be in the skybox. And you look great.”

  “Your box?”

  “No. I don’t like to spend money on things like that. But I was invited.”

  “So am I party crashing?”

  Grant shook his head. “I was told to bring you.”

  “Me, specifically?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, spill.”

  “I was talking about you a little too much. So it was suggested that I bring you along.”

  “Please don’t tell me it’s your mother.” Tamara looked pained at the possibility.

  “No.” Grant remembered how he had felt blindsided the first time he’d met Vanessa’s mother. Plus, meeting mothers was a game changer. He liked Tamara, thought she was gorgeous beyond belief, and he wanted her so badly that he couldn’t walk straight. But upping the stakes with a visit to his parents was not happening. Yet. “This is a business colleague.”

  Tamara continued to look at him, as if waiting for him to say something else. He sensed her distrust. But he wasn’t worried.

  Finally, after battling with the traffic into the stadium parking lot, he parked in the VIP section and headed for the elevators. The fans were pumped for their home team, and their enthusiasm was contagious as they spilled out of their cars.

  They mixed in with the hustle and bustle of fans entering the stadium. On their way to the skybox, he and Tamara chatted with strangers about the home team’s overall performance for the year. Tamara offered her predictions and her tips on how the coach should proceed for the remainder of the year. He hadn’t known she was a sports buff, but he had opted for this activity since it was a safe one that shouldn’t make her feel uncomfortable. While he wasn’t up on the latest news about the basketball world, he could hold his own at the basic level of sports trash talk.

  “I didn’t bother to get us refreshments because there will be food in the skybox,” Grant explained as they approached the door of the suite.

  Tamara nodded.

  He pressed the buzzer at the suite. The door opened and the merriment from within hit them full blast.

  “Looks like the party started without us.” Grant stepped aside for Tamara to enter. He laid his hand gently on her back as she entered the room, and he felt her stiffen.

  “Let me introduce you.” Grant wanted to erase any unease she felt.

  “I’m not going to remember all of these people.”

  “I don’t know them, either.” He kept his hand on
her back. Little did she know that this wasn’t his usual scene. He’d much rather hang out at his favorite brick-oven pizza place, but this had felt more special. And he wanted her to feel special.

  “Grant, over here.” His colleague beckoned to him.

  Grant and Tamara squeezed through the various bodies to his colleague.

  “So, is this Tamara?” His friend plunged ahead without waiting for Grant’s introduction. “I’m Clinton. Thanks for getting Grant to come out and have some fun. He’s such a homebody, always working on world domination.” The man shook Tamara’s hand and whistled appreciatively over her. “Only took a knockout to really knock him out.”

  Grant had always thought Clinton was a nerd in disguise. He tried so hard to be the party guy that sometimes it irritated Grant. But to be called out about his lack of a social life by the man who had to spend tons of money to keep an entourage, well, that truly fired him up. And Tamara’s laughter at his expense was a little too bubbly for his liking.

  Clinton continued. “So, Tamara, what do you do? Grant seems to be scared to share any details with me.”

  “I run a leadership academy for teens.”

  “That sounds noble. Grant, why did you hide that from me?”

  Grant shrugged.

  “Do you find him to be very secretive?” Tamara asked, jabbing a thumb in Grant’s direction. Now she was going to jump on the bandwagon to make fun of him. At least she was cute enough to get away with it.

  “Always secretive. I think he likes to hold everything at arm’s distance. Who knows, he might be living a double life, one for the public—hardworking, dedicated CEO—and one that’s private—bargaining with the devil for world domination in the computer game industry.”

  “Oh, my, now that’s...dark. I wonder which Grant Benson came out tonight.” Tamara assessed him as if the answer would scroll across his forehead.

  “I’m going to get food. I think both of you should fill your mouths, too,” Grant scolded.