Comfort of a Man (Arabesque)

by Byrd, Adrianne

  Lost in her thoughts, she went into the bathroom and drew her bath. She undressed as the smell of lavender wafted throughout the room. She instantly relaxed when she slid into the hot scented water.

  “I can definitely get used to this.” She lifted a handful of bubbles and blew them into the air and laughed when they floated around her. Settling against the form-fitted backrest, she closed her eyes and allowed her mind to drift aimlessly.

  A loud splash awakened her and she opened her eyes to see Isaiah climbing into the tub. “Mind if I join you?”

  “Not at all.” She moved to her left to give him more legroom. “Comfy?”

  “There’re plenty of things we can do in here.”

  She lifted a curious brow. “Things we haven’t done already?”

  “We’ve hardly made a dent on my list.” He lifted her foot and gave it a deep massage.

  She sank deeper into the tub and closed her eyes. “What are you doing to me?”

  “I’m spoiling you. I thought I told you that.”

  “You might have mentioned it,” she said, smiling. His rich laughter deepened her pleasure. As the massage traveled from her feet to her calves, she was convinced she’d died and gone to heaven.

  After a long while his fingers stopped performing their magic and she opened her eyes with a tinge of disappointment.

  “Come here,” he instructed huskily.

  She obeyed and settled herself between his legs.

  From the accessory deck, he lifted the top of a crystal dish and removed a bath sponge. He squeezed on a fair amount of liquid soap, and then with smooth, gentle strokes, he washed her back.

  When his soapy hands came around to her chest and slid down the valley between her breasts, she leaned against him and submitted to the wondrous feelings his hands provoked. His lips nibbled at her ear as one hand traveled down her taut abs and dipped inside her.

  She sucked in a breath and spread her legs. Her moans grew loud and echoed with the room’s natural acoustics.

  Isaiah rained kissed along her ears, neck, and shoulders. “How are you liking my list?”

  “It’s a nice list. Mind if I try?” She poured the soap into her hands and rewarded him with some smooth strokes of her own.

  “You’re a fast learner,” he said, pulling her pliant body against him.

  “Complaining?”

  He kissed her. “Never.”

  They took their time laughing and playing with the remaining bubbles.

  Minutes later, they took turns applying baby oil to their bodies. When Isaiah’s hands roamed over her stomach and up toward her breasts, a familiar heat returned.

  He lowered her onto the bed. His mouth took the place of his hands to massage the soft bud between her legs. Instantly, she was lost within herself and addicted to this feeling only he aroused.

  After a time, the resulting orgasm nearly shot her off the bed.

  “Where are you going?” He laughed. “No rules, remember?”

  She had no choice but to nod as her chest continued to rise and fall as though she’d completed a marathon.

  Isaiah crawled up the bed and reached over into the nightstand jammed with condoms. While he fidgeted with that, Brooklyn took him into her mouth.

  His gasp satisfied Brooklyn though she was determined to dangle him over the same edge of inanity. When Isaiah’s control cracked, he rolled her onto her back and slid on the condom before he eased inside her.

  Their hips moved in a rhythm only they could hear while their moans blended into a duet of passion. When his thrusts became slow grinds, Brooklyn’s nails dug deeper into his soft skin.

  Her body exploded with a violent shudder and her cry accompanied a fresh stream of tears.

  Isaiah growled his release and collapsed in near exhaustion beside her. He pulled her gently against him. “I love you,” he whispered as he nuzzled kisses along her neck. “I love you.”

  Brooklyn stiffened.

  Chapter 21

  Isaiah sat in the middle of his mother’s living-room floor trying to superglue a leg back onto a table while he cradled his cell phone on his shoulder. “Hello, Yasmine.”

  “So you finally remembered how to call someone?” she huffed on the other end. “I was just starting to feel insulted.”

  Isaiah laughed. “I guess an apology is in order?”

  “That or I can introduce you to my good friend Mr. Dial Tone.”

  “In that case, I’m sorry. I guess time has gotten away from me since I’ve been in Georgia.”

  “Six weeks and counting.”

  “I stopped marking my calendar.”

  “Uh-huh. Rumor has it you’re not coming back.”

  He frowned. “Who said that?”

  “I did. The way I see it, you’re going to pop the big question to Ms. Hotpants sooner than later.”

  Isaiah dropped the tube of superglue. “Whoa. No one said anything about marriage.”

  Yasmine went quiet for a moment, and then asked, “You’re in love, right?”

  “We already covered this.”

  “So it stands to reason that you should ask her to marry you. That’s the way your mother and I see it, anyway.”

  He rolled his eyes and continued with his task. “Don’t tell me you’ve been checking up on me through my mother.”

  “Well, I had to talk to someone. You’d stopped calling.”

  “Mary isn’t keeping you occupied?”

  “We broke up,” she said in a tone of indifference. “She said something about my job taking up too much of my time. Can you believe it? Women.”

  “Guess this means you’ll be a strong contender for that man of the year award.”

  “Woman of the year. I might be one of the boys, but I’m still a woman.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  “Back to our previous subject.” Yasmine’s tone turned serious. “When are you coming back? Your mother sounds like she’s doing great. She’s even returning to dance class soon.”

  “Damn, I’m going to call you Nancy Drew.”

  “Before you start doing that, why don’t you answer my question?”

  He shrugged and then answered when he realized she couldn’t see him. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll stick around till the end of the summer. There’s no hurry. Sounds like you have things under control.”

  “Did you miss my mentioning the death of my social life?”

  “You have my condolences.”

  She sighed. “The things I do for love.”

  “Thanks, Yas. I owe you one.”

  “Whatever. Since you’re still going to be in Atlanta, I hope you don’t mind my crashing with you in August. I have another meeting with Macy Patterson. Looks like we’re going to do this merger after all.”

  “I knew I had the right woman for the job. Of course you can stay here. The more the merrier.”

  “Who knows, maybe this time I’ll finally get to meet this woman who has you whipped.”

  “Yeah. Who knows?”

  “Don’t worry, buddy. I won’t steal her from you.”

  Evan’s head throbbed mercilessly while he listened to Macy’s unfounded ravings about Brooklyn for the umpteenth time. “How many times do I have to tell you I’m not jealous?” he asked.

  Macy’s cool green eyes narrowed. “Until I believe you,” she snapped.

  “Keep your voice down,” he warned, standing from the bed. “Do you want Jaleel to hear you?”

  “Who cares what that little brat hears?”

  “Macy,” he growled.

  “What?” She rounded on him. “Nothing I do for him is good enough. I fix him breakfast and I have to listen to a thirty-minute dissertation of how his mother’s cooking is better than mine.”

  Evan gave a soft nod. He, too, preferred Brooke’s down-home cooking to the debacle Macy prepared.

  “He’ll never accept me as his stepmother. Maybe we should rethink getting married.”

  “Macy, calm down. He just needs more tim
e to adjust. He’ll come around. Trust me.”

  Her hands settled on her hips. “I’m not happy.”

  That makes two of us. He stood with his best puppy-dog expression. “What can I do to make this up to you?”

  “Other than send Jaleel home?”

  His hands fell to his sides as he sighed. “That’s not an option. I want to spend time with my son. You knew we were a package deal coming into this.”

  She crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. “Then you talk to him. I won’t stand for his nasty remarks and disrespect any longer.”

  Evan crossed the room and pulled Macy awkwardly into his arms. “I’ll talk to him.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yes. You have my word.”

  Jaleel pulled his ear away from the door and smirked with satisfaction. Everything was going according to plan. As he tiptoed back to his room, his thoughts turned troubled at the one thing he hadn’t counted on: his mother finding a boyfriend.

  Toni eased onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar while Brooklyn poured her a steaming cup of coffee.

  “So he told you that he loved you. Great. What’s the problem?”

  Brooklyn exhaled wearily and shook her head. “Haven’t you been listening to what I’ve been telling you? I don’t want him to be in love with me. This was supposed to be just a good time, remember?”

  Toni shrugged with a blank expression. “Okay, so it’s turned into something bigger than that. Roll with it.”

  Brooklyn returned the pot to the coffeemaker. “I never should have listened to you. I knew from the beginning that nothing good could come of this.”

  “You’re giving me a headache.”

  “What?”

  “Stop trying to control everything. You’re acting like you’re not getting anything out of the deal. Yes, it was sex in the beginning and now it’s something more. Big deal. The man told you that he loved you, not that he wants to marry you.”

  Brooklyn settled her hands on her hips. “And what if he does?”

  Toni shrugged. “Do you love him?”

  The question knocked Brooklyn off kilter and she struggled not to show it. “That wasn’t what I asked you.”

  “I know, but it’s what I’m asking you.”

  Their gazes met and held for a long time before Brooklyn looked away.

  “I don’t know if I love him.” She grabbed her coffee cup and joined Toni at the bar. “I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore.

  “Well, let me tell you what I know,” Toni said, swiveling to face her. “I know in the past six weeks, you’ve been the happiest I’ve seen in years. How could that be a bad thing?”

  Brooklyn lowered her gaze.

  “Besides,” Toni went on, “what’s not to love about the man? He’s wonderful and treats you like a queen.”

  “I know and to tell you the truth that’s part of the problem. The man is too perfect—other than the fact that he lives a few thousand miles away. Any minute now, I’m expecting this fantasy bubble to pop and find out Isaiah’s some raving lunatic who’d escaped from the funny farm or something.”

  “Oh, give me a break and stop with the excuses.” Toni rolled her eyes. “Live it up, take some chances. You’re never going to get anywhere if you don’t take risks.”

  “And what if I get hurt again?”

  “I’ll buy you a box of Band-Aids.”

  Brooklyn flinched.

  Regret lined Toni’s face and she drew in a deep breath. “Sorry. That was incredibly insensitive.”

  “Hmmph. I’ve convinced you’d have made a lousy therapist.”

  “Yeah, but I’m a great lawyer.”

  They glanced at each other and smiled.

  When Brooklyn’s gaze fell away, she stared into her coffee as though waiting for it to show the future. Love? Did she love Isaiah?

  “Hello?” Toni probed.

  Her trance broken, Brooklyn shook her head and took another sip. “I was just thinking.” She then held up a hand to stop whatever smart retort, one-liner, or speech Toni might say. “There’re a lot of things to consider. As much as I want to lose myself in this incredible fantasy, there are a lot of things just waiting to crush this relationship.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like Jaleel. He’ll be back home next month. How am I going to get him to accept a new man in my life when he’s constantly rejecting me? Then, there’s Isaiah’s job. Sooner or later, he’s going to have to go back to Texas. And the last thing I want is a long-distance nightmare.”

  “What does either of those things have to do with whether or not you love the guy?”

  Brooklyn drew a blank, and then answered in a low voice, “Nothing.”

  “Right. Stop getting worked up over nothing. Enjoy him and the precious time you have together while it’s still here.”

  At the end of her friend’s speech, Brooklyn’s inner turmoil calmed. “I guess you’re right.”

  “Of course I am. How dare you call me a lousy therapist!”

  “Going out?” Georgia asked her son from the door of his bedroom.

  He turned and looked at her. “I hope you don’t mind. But I thought I’d just be the third wheel with Dr. Ramsey coming over.”

  “Why don’t you start calling him Paul?”

  Isaiah shrugged. “Habit, I suppose.”

  She nodded, but her expression said she wasn’t buying it. “You know, the good thing about Paul and me is that over the years we’ve established a solid foundation.”

  Isaiah smiled while ignoring his discomfort at the direction of their conversation.

  “I’ve always thought it was best to become friends first. Sometimes too much too fast is just that.”

  His smile waned as his mother’s words took root.

  As if sensing she’d struck her mark, she winked. “Just think about it,” she said.

  That night, Brooklyn greeted Isaiah at her front door dressed in a pink silk robe. At his look of surprise, she flashed him a peek of an outrageous thong teddy the color of cotton candy.

  Isaiah’s jaw dropped.

  “See anything you like?” she asked with a playful smile.

  “Yes. Every time I see you,” he said as he stepped inside and closed the door.

  She removed her robe.

  “My, my, my,” he said as Brooklyn performed a slow pirouette for his approval.

  She smiled. “I thought you might like it.”

  He stepped closer and pulled her into his arms. “I love it.” As his head descended, his hand inched through her soft hair. The glorious taste of her instantly muddled his thoughts and his body responded to the power she held over him.

  It wasn’t until her lips abandoned his to place random kisses along his neck and her fingers tried to make quick work of his shirt’s buttons that he was able to think again.

  His hand covered her fingers. “No.”

  Astonishment clouded her eyes. “No?”

  He stepped back and flashed a reassuring smile. “It’s not that I don’t want to. Lord knows it’s not that.”

  “Then what?”

  Isaiah reached for the robe she still gripped in her hand and gently placed it around her shoulders. He flinched when embarrassment stained her face. “Maybe I’m going about this the wrong way. Let’s go into the living room and talk for a few minutes.”

  “Talk?”

  He nodded. “If that’s all right?”

  She stared at him as if at a loss for words.

  “Come on.” He placed his hand beneath her elbow and guided her into the living room.

  Not at all happy at how her perfectly planned evening was taking a nosedive, Brooklyn took her seat on the sofa and watched Isaiah with guarded eyes as he sat next to her.

  “Okay, so what’s up?” she asked.

  He drew in a deep breath and looked as though he didn’t know how to begin. For a moment, she thought something bad had happened.

  “Come on. What is it?”

&nbs
p; He took her hand. “I’ve been doing some thinking.”

  Her shoulders sagged as her anxiety deflated. “Thinking?”

  He nodded.

  “About what?”

  “About us.”

  Suddenly her fear returned. Was he about to call it quits? Was it time for him to go back to Texas? “What about us?” She pulled back her hand.

  “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

  She blinked, unsure whether she’d heard him right. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean—all we do is have sex.”

  She frowned. “Are you complaining?”

  Isaiah shook his head, but then started nodding. “I guess I am. I want more.”

  “More sex?” she struggled to follow the conversation.

  He laughed. “No. I want something more meaningful from you.”

  “I see,” she lied. “Like what?”

  “Like love.”

  She cringed. There was that word again.

  “Trust, companionship, and respect,” he added. “Everything it takes to build a successful relationship.”

  “I see,” she echoed, unable to think of anything else to say.

  Isaiah squeezed her hand, apparently emboldened by her lack of argument. “The first step to see whether we have those other elements is to abstain for a little while.”

  She blinked. “Come again?”

  He nodded. “For at least a couple of weeks.”

  “No sex for two weeks?” Brooklyn blinked and pulled her robe tighter. “Don’t I get a vote on this?”

  “I already know how you’d vote.”

  “Good. My vote cancels out your vote and we can just forget this silly notion.” She leaned in for a kiss, but he pulled away.

  “Not quite.” His expression told her to behave. “We need to do this. Just call it an experiment.”

  “I’d like to call it crazy.” Frustration seeped into her face and voice. “We’re great in bed.”

  “But it’s not a solid foundation for a relationship.”

  She flinched, and then realized her mistake.

  “In case, of course, you’re not serious about pursuing a relationship.” His gaze intensified.

  She exhaled and stood from the sofa. “Look, I never lied to you about that.”