Speech eluded the young twenty-two-year-old as his eyes roamed over the goddess draped in a tight red velvet dress that showcased a perfect hourglass figure. She wasn’t as thick as he liked them, but damn if she didn’t have enough to work with.
“Do you like?” she asked, spinning in a perfect pirouette.
“What’s not to like?” he asked with nervous laughter.
“Baby, I like you already.” She winked and hooked her arm through his. “I’m Kimora, your host for the evening and this is my place.”
Joel smiled as he saw what looked like a sea of people chatting and dancing around in the room. “Nice place.”
“Have we met?” the gorgeous hostess asked, her full, painted lips tempting him to steal a kiss.
“Well, actually, no.” He glanced around the room again. “A friend of mine—”
“Say no more.”
She placed a finger against his lips, and for the first time he caught the faintest hint of jasmine and vanilla. Now he wanted to taste every inch of her—and judging by the coveted stares in the room, he wasn’t the only one.
“You’re in luck. I have a couple of extra ladies coming tonight, and if the numbers hold out, there will be one woman for every man—or maybe a few ménage à trois will be in order!”
Joel blinked. He liked this woman’s style.
The room roared with laughter and Joel turned to see what was going on.
“Sable!” she shouted. “Get this handsome young man a drink.”
Sable, another hottie with a body that curved like a winding hypnotic road, turned toward them. Her eyes roamed over every inch of him, and it was clear that she liked what she saw. “What’s your pleasure?” she asked.
“I’ll have an orgasm,” Joel replied with a wink.
Sable jiggled her eyebrows. “My favorite.”
“Imagine that.” Joel winked again and moved toward her.
“Oh, wait.” Kimora caught him by the arm.
When he glanced at her again, she still had the same breathtaking effect on him.
“I need your keys.” She held out a large crystal bowl.
He chuckled and deposited his keys into the bowl—all the while he couldn’t believe his friend Derek had told him the truth about this Christmas party.
“Better hope I don’t draw your name,” she warned playfully. “I’ll definitely put a little hair on your chest.” She tweaked his nipples through his black turtleneck and then turned saucily back toward the door.
“Merry Christmas!” Kimora showered another invitee with confetti.
“You finally made it!” Derek shouted from behind Joel and pounded his back. “Didn’t I tell you this party was going to be off the chain?”
“That you did.” Joel turned with a wolfish smile and delivered his own blow to his buddy’s arm. He drew a certain amount of pleasure at seeing his friend wince from the power behind his jab.
“Have you checked out the honeys in this place? I swear they all must have been special ordered from a Hot Chicks R Us catalog. I’m in heaven.” Derek’s head swiveled around just as a Gabrielle Union look-alike jiggled her hips past them.
The two men looked at each other.
“You don’t think that was…?” Derek thought it over. “Nah, it couldn’t have been. Could it?” He jerked back around in hopes of catching another glance.
She really did look like the famous actress.
Derek wasn’t going to chance it. “Hey, I’ll catch up with you later,” he said and disappeared without waiting for an answer.
Joel shook his head and then turned his attention back to the partying strangers. He was more than a little awkward as he navigated through the crowd. As he moved, he tried to guess which woman would draw his keys.
This was absolutely the wildest thing he’d ever done. After a long while, he wondered where the waitress had disappeared to with his drink.
“Merry Christmas,” the robust bartender barked. “What can I get you?”
Something to calm my nerves. “The strongest thing you got.”
That put a smile on the bartender’s face. “I think I like you, son.” He turned and reached for some mysterious bottles behind him. “This drink is guaranteed to make a man out of you.” He set the drink down.
“What is it?”
“The strongest thing I got.” The man winked. “Just what you ordered.”
A few partygoers surrounding him smirked. Was he the butt of some joke?
The bartender’s eyes twinkled and Joel was certain they also held a challenge. It wasn’t like him to back down from anything. His hand wrapped around the glass before his brain registered what he was about to do. It wasn’t until the scorching that trailed from his tongue to his toes that he even considered that the drink could be deadly.
A spasm of coughs racked his body and the air was suddenly in short supply. The ring of people around him laughed. A few took pity and pounded his back in aid. Soon it appeared his lungs forgave him and his breathing returned to normal.
Upon seeing the twinkling eyes of the bartender gazing back at him, Joel set his glass back down and barked, “I’ll take another!”
The crowd cheered.
Patrick climbed out of his car and stared at the address listed on his invitation. He still didn’t know why he’d come—other than the fact that he had absolutely nothing else to do on Christmas Eve and he felt like celebrating. Wyclef Onwu was no longer his problem. It was up to his Maker now to judge him how He saw fit. Not even the mayor would argue with that.
He glanced up at the club and then down at his invitation. It intrigued him.
“Club Sexy.” He wrinkled his nose, wondering for the millionth time whether it was smart for him to attend such a place. He was the district attorney. “Kimora.” He still drew a blank. He’d searched his PDA, his address books and his dusty memory and he was certain that he didn’t know a Kimora—but she’d made it clear that she knew him.
“C’mon, live a little,” he coached himself as he marched up to the door. For the first time in years, he carried no cell phone, pager or beeper. That in itself was a liberating experience.
As he approached the building, the music and laughter grew louder. Suddenly he felt every day of his forty-two years and he wondered yet again why he’d come.
“Merry Christmas!” a woman shouted before throwing a sheet of glittering confetti in his face.
When his vision cleared, he was convinced the beauty standing before him had stepped out of a dream.
“Ah.” The woman in red looked him over, and her smile widened. “I thought you were going to stand me up.”
Patrick blinked. “I’m sorry, but do I know you?” His eyes scanned past her to the dancing crowd. This was definitely not his scene.
“You don’t know me yet.” Kimora slid a hand down the side of her curvaceous figure while a blatant invitation glowed in her eyes. “But don’t worry. The night is still young.”
Patrick swallowed and pretended not to feel his arousal stiffen against his leg.
The beautiful woman laughed at the lame attempt. “Coco never told me you embarrassed easily.”
“Coco?”
“Courtney,” she said. “Assistant District Attorney Courtney Brown. I believe you know her?”
Patrick’s gaze shifted to the crowd behind her again. “Is she—”
“Not yet.” The woman’s lips widened and her eyes danced. “But she will be soon.” She picked up a large crystal bowl filled with keys. “Something tells me that I was right about you—but you’ll have to play to win her.”
He didn’t understand.
“Trust me.” She winked. “I’ll need your keys.”
Live a little. Patrick dug out his keys from his pants pockets and placed them in the bowl.
“C’mon in.” She stepped back and allowed him to journey farther into the club.
He walked inside, catching a whiff of jasmine and vanilla. Damn, the woman smelled as good as she looke
d.
“I’m Kimora Evans.” She extended a hand. “Coco’s best friend.”
“Coco, huh?” He struggled to keep his amusement under wraps. “I would have thought that her nickname was something like ‘ball breaker.’”
“Coco the ball breaker.” Kimora smiled. “I like it.”
Patrick chuckled awkwardly and crammed his hands into his pants pockets. Now what?
Kimora set the bowl down but plucked his keys out and studied the design of his leather key holder. “A four-leaf clover, huh?”
“I’m Irish,” he said, realizing how stupid he sounded.
“You don’t say?” She returned his keys to the bowl. “Can I get you anything from the bar?”
He laughed at the joke. “As a matter of fact, I think I could use a drink.” Patrick glanced around, taking in the bevy of beauties. Damn, it had been a long time. Did he even remember how to pick up a woman?
Kimora laughed as though she’d read his thoughts and turned him around by his shoulders. “The bar is that way.”
“Right.”
“I’ll bring Coco over as soon as she arrives.”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary.” The last thing he wanted was for Ms. Brown to think he’d come to hook up with her. He was her superior, after all.
“Of course it is.” Kimora laughed playfully. “You’re the only reason she’s coming to this party.”
Sable stood at the back door, impatiently tapping her foot and anxiously puffing on a cigarette. “C’mon. C’mon.” She glanced at her watch and cursed at the thought of all the tips she was missing out on and the action.
“I knew I could always count on you.”
She glanced up just as Elijah stepped out of the inky blackness and into the globe of light from the lamppost. “I was just beginning to think you weren’t going to show up.”
He smiled as he approached, and Sable felt a stab of jealousy for her boss. Was he really dipped in gold? She didn’t move when he’d entered through the door and his hard body brushed hers. Yeah, yeah, it was a cheap way to cop a feel of his muscular body. So sue her.
“Where’s my girl?” he asked.
“Up by the front door, greeting the guests.”
This was exactly the reason Elijah had used the back door. He wanted to surprise Kimora.
“Thanks again,” he told Sable and planted a kiss against her cheek and slipped a hundred-dollar tip between her ample breasts. “Don’t spend it all in one spot.”
Sable sighed and then winked at him. “One day…” she promised him. And she meant it. If Kimora ever cut him loose, she would be right there to pick up the pieces. “Does she know how lucky she is?”
Elijah flashed the waitress a departing smile. “You got it all wrong.” He shrugged. “I’m the luckiest bastard here.”
Chapter 6
Everything Birdie tried on made her feel fat. For a party, it was probably best to stay away from anything with an elastic band, but damn if it didn’t feel as if her best jeans were slicing into her stomach. She opted for a loose red-and-silver top, mainly because it came with a matching jacket and she could hide the slight jiggle of her upper arms.
Unlike her shoe-fetish friend Kimora, Birdie only had to dig through two types of shoes: flat and flat with arch support. When she had finally finished putting herself together, her critical eye hated everything she wore.
“I’m not going,” she declared and threw up her hands. What was the point? Birdie stomped out of her room and made it downstairs to the refrigerator in record time. The doorbell rang just as she pulled out her favorite brand of double-chocolate-mint ice cream.
“Who in the hell?” She returned the carton to the freezer and went to answer the door. “Coco?” she asked when her friend blazed across the threshold.
“If I have to go, you have to go.”
Birdie’s gaze settled on her friend’s smoking hot little gold dress and she blinked in surprise. “She called you, too?”
Coco nodded impatiently. “And she somehow managed to get an invitation to my boss.”
“She didn’t.” Birdie felt a chuckle starting but then quickly swallowed it under Coco’s murderous glare. She took another glance at her friend’s attire and at long last she understood—just as Kimora must have.
“I thought you didn’t like your boss,” Birdie said, crossing her arms. Coco would go on and on about how the guy always got under her skin, and Birdie had chalked up her ranting to Coco’s just being…well, Coco. “I don’t like him. And most likely he has no idea what kind of party Kimora has invited him to.”
“So you’re just going to go rescue him—in that outfit?”
Coco drew an impatient breath. “Are you going to help me or not?”
Birdie turned toward the foyer table and grabbed her purse. “Let’s roll.”
Kimora passed the duty of collecting keys to one of her employees and started flirting with a few potential “dates.” Considering herself just shy of a professional dancer, she jiggled and popped her booty in time to 50 Cent’s “Dance Inferno,” and judging by how low her admirers’ tongues wagged, it would be a good month before she had to mop the club’s hardwood floors.
A hand blinded her vision, while a strong arm wrapped around her small waist and drew her back against a rock-hard frame. Instantly hot and wet, she knew the man’s body well.
“Guess who?”
“Um…” She reached a hand behind her, pretending to be dumbfounded. But when she boldly slid her hands between his legs and felt the weight of her old familiar friend, she proudly announced, “Elijah!”
He laughed, uncovered her eyes and playfully spun her around. One glance at his strong, handsome features and Kimora licked her lips and felt her toes curl.
“Merry Christmas, baby.” He tilted his head and kissed her plump, vibrant, red-painted lips.
She sighed, stroked his manhood through his pants and reveled in the feel of his hands grabbing and squeezing her butt. As their tongues delved into each other’s warm mouths, neither of them cared they were in a crowded room—in fact, Kimora welcomed the guests’ voyeurism.
“Now that’s the kind of woman I want,” a male’s voice floated over to them.
Kimora broke the kiss and laughed in triumph at Elijah’s dazed and confused look. “I feel like dancing,” she admitted. “Care to join me?”
“If I don’t, I have a feeling I’m replaceable.”
“Damn right,” the same male barked.
Elijah cut the man an annoyed look, while Kimora laughed and proceeded to lead her man through the crowd with her hand still firmly locked on to her favorite part of his anatomy.
Laughing, Elijah basked in the men’s envious stares and the women’s lyrical chuckles. However, it was obvious to him that people still assembled at the front of the club had never attended a Kimora party. They still held that deer-caught-in-headlights look, but he held no doubt in time their inhibitions would be shed.
Across the club, down the corridor, they entered what was affectionately named the Champagne Room. Tonight it had been transformed into a miniature dance club—complete with a spinning disco ball. Dark, hot and ear-splittingly loud, the room was crammed with bodies pulsing to the stereo’s infectious beats.
If it wasn’t for her possessive claim on his iron-stiff hard-on, Elijah was certain that he would have lost Kimora, but soon enough they found a secluded spot and proceeded to get their groove on.
Dancing while Kimora did her thing was difficult. She had a way of moving her hips that made a brother want to break out the dollar bills and stuff them in every available spot on her body—and she knew it. Her dancing had nothing on what she could do in bed—and she knew that, as well.
Their hips bumped. Her ass grinded against his crotch, and her nails raked his chest and back. She was everywhere and nowhere and Elijah grew delirious with desire. Just dance, he told himself. This wasn’t the time or place. But one glance to the bodies moving next to them and he suddenly re
alized a few of the other guests had abandoned notions of dancing and were actually…having sex.
The shimmering light from the disco ball faintly illuminated exposed hips, bare breasts and thrusting buttocks. He realized too why the music was so loud in the room: it drowned out the guests’ groans and moans of pleasure. His gaze shot back to his dancing partner and he identified her cat-caught-the-canary smile and felt his member throb to the point of pain.
She crooked a finger at him, and he came to her willingly until she had backed up against the wall. He pressed his body against hers, loving the feel of her toned curves and soft mounds.
He took her mouth again, this time pouring everything he had into the kiss. In return, she gave him the same.
Kimora felt wicked and reveled in the feeling. She also knew if she didn’t get Elijah into her soon, her body would explode with need. Accustomed to just going for what she wanted, Kimora brought her hands once again to the front of his pants, this time tackling the zipper. When she freed his hefty, throbbing sex, her body literally quaked.
Elijah, as if sensing her arousal, lifted her easily against the wall, hiked up her dress and pushed aside her thin lacy thong. His mouth slid from her mouth, scorched a trail down her throat and then finally his teeth peeled back the thin fabric covering her full breasts. He locked his lips around a dark tan nipple at the same time he thrust two fingers into her slick passageway, and Kimora’s eyes rolled heavenward.
She just needed this quick fix, she kept telling herself. For the most part she knew it was a lie, but the lie still gave her the illusion that she was in control.
Elijah’s hands worked their magic and robbed her of breath and thought until the first orgasm swept through every inch of her like a firestorm. When it was over, she kept her legs and arms wrapped around him as if he was her very lifeline.
Damn him for making her feel this way.
“I’m not through with you,” he growled huskily into her ear.
I hope not.
“You’re crazy if you think I’m going to sit back and watch you pull another man’s set of keys. I have a big night planned for us.”
Holiday Fantasy Page 5
