“Octavia might be a pain in the ass, but she propelled my career forward faster than I could’ve done on my own.”
“Sounds like she’s played an important role in your success. Like a mentor of sorts,” Angelo said as he leaned on the counter facing Zenobia. He was trying like hell to listen to everything she had to say, but standing in front of her was a bad idea. His gaze kept dropping to her breasts, where her nipples pushed against the ribbed material of her tank top. Beautiful and sexy, she had a body he would love to…
Focus, man. Focus.
His thoughts were going into dangerous territory. A territory that could have him doing something stupid, like kissing her again. Or worse, throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her back upstairs where he could thoroughly worship that luscious body.
“Yeah, she has, but I just…” Zenobia’s words trailed off, but Angelo had a feeling he knew what she was going to say. During one of their private conversations earlier, she had mentioned not being satisfied with her life. Not sure if what she was building was what she really wanted. She loved her fans, and the lifestyle her career provided, but felt something was missing.
Angelo reached over and placed his hand on top of hers. He loved touching her. Probably a little too much. “You just what?” he prompted.
“I just don’t know if I want to do this any longer.”
He removed his hand and frowned. “Do what? Sing?”
She nodded. “I want to sing. Singing stirs something so passionately deep down in my soul, but I don’t know if I’m cut out for all that goes with having a music career. Performing, spending hours in the studio, and constantly being in the spotlight is starting to take its toll. I like my privacy too much. Which is impossible to have these days. I can barely go anywhere just for fun without showing up in entertainment news.”
Angelo leaned on the counter. “I get it, but didn’t you think about that before you signed with a label?”
“I did, but… Even though I’ve dreamed of being rich and famous, I didn’t really think about what came with this type of fame. Besides, most people dream of making it big, but there’s a small part of us that doesn’t think it will actually happen.”
“But it did happen.”
“Yeah, and everything happened so fast. It’s been a whirlwind and more than I ever imagined. I just…I just want a normal life.”
“What would normal look like to you?”
“Good question. I’ve never had a normal life,” she said quietly, glancing down in her bowl where the ice cream was starting to melt.
That one statement spoke volumes, confirming to Angelo that there was something she wasn’t sharing. He felt it in his gut, and his gut rarely steered him wrong.
“I have no idea what a normal life would look like.”
“Well, maybe you should think about what you want. In the meantime, come here.” He strolled to the edge of the counter and reached for her hand. “Dance with me.”
“What?” Zenobia gave a little laugh. “Here? In the kitchen?”
“Yeah, why not? We have Luther Vandross playing in the background. We have plenty of space to get our groove on, and you want to feel normal. So, let’s dance.”
This was such a bad idea, but she looked as if she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. Angelo wanted to believe that he was asking her to dance for her own good, but if he was honest, he longed to have her in his arms again.
Even though she was shaking her head, she let him guide her to the side of the center island. He set his gun on the counter.
“I can’t believe we’re going to dance in the kitchen. Who does that?” she mumbled as he pulled her close. Holding one of her hand, he brought it to his chest while his free arm slid around her narrow waist. “I don’t think this is normal.”
“It can be,” he said quietly near her ear. “Now relax.”
Relax? Ha! His body was wound so tight, he sounded like a hypocrite telling her to relax. His pulse pounded in his ear as he struggled to keep the lower part of his body in check as they started moving to the music. It wasn’t working. Her clean fresh fragrance permeated his senses, and Angelo bent slightly, his cheek brushing the side of her head. Inhaling deeply, her scent filled him, reminding him of springtime and a fresh ocean breeze. She smelled like heaven and moved with a gracefulness that had his body vibrating with need.
Zenobia slowly slid her arms around his neck and molded against him as she hummed along with the song. It was so easy to get lost in the moment. They moved as one, totally in sync as if they danced together all the time.
Yeah, getting her to dance with him might’ve been a bad idea, but damn if he wasn’t loving having her in his arms. The more time he spent with Zenobia, the more she was getting under his skin like no other woman had ever done, especially not as quickly.
“I take it you dance often,” she said.
“Actually, not as much as I used to, but whenever there’s a family gathering at my parents’ home, there’s always singing and dancing. Most of us love R&B. My father, not so much.” Angelo chuckled, recalling the number of times his father grumbled about them playing songs over and over. “He’s more into Latin rock.”
“He’s Latino?” Zenobia asked.
“Yeah, and my mother is African-American. Their taste in music might be their only differences, except for maybe some foods. But for the most part, my pops likes anything she cooks, except for collard greens. He still can’t get with those.”
They both laughed.
“Your parents sound wonderful.”
They were, but what Angelo didn’t want to do was regale her with stories that might have her sinking back into her feelings regarding her mother. He couldn’t imagine losing either of his parents the way her mother had died.
The song changed to Luther’s “A House Is Not A Home,” and Zenobia released a soft sigh. “This is one of my favorites by him,” she said.
“Really? Mine too.” Angelo held her tighter, and placed a kiss on the side of her head without thinking. That shit was going to get him into trouble. He had to keep reminding himself that he was on assignment. They were in a fake relationship, but pretending with her felt a little too real. Telling himself that he was only playing the role to get close enough for her to feel comfortable opening up to him was bullshit. He was feeling this woman. Feeling her way more than he should. And the sweet torture of her firm breasts pressed against his chest wasn’t helping.
Focus, man, he told himself again. Maybe he should walk around with a recording of those words, something that could remind him whenever his thoughts veered in the wrong direction.
To distract himself, Angelo started singing along with Luther Vandross. Like Zenobia, lyrics and melodies aroused something inside him and he couldn’t help but sing along. Most of the time, he’d start singing without being conscious of what he was doing.
“Wait a minute.” Zenobia stopped moving and Angelo loosened his hold on her, wondering what he’d missed. She leaned her head back to look at him. “You sing too?” she said with awe and shock in her voice. “You cook, clean, protect, and sing? Dude. You’re almost too good to be true.”
Angelo threw his head back and laughed. “Baby, I’m the total package.”
“Yeah, I’m starting to see that.”
He pulled her back into his arms and started singing again as they moved to the rhythm of the beat.
“Your voice is so smooth and rich, almost hypnotic.” She looked at him. “Have you ever sung professionally?”
“No.”
“Why not? Angelo, I’m serious. You can sang. Everybody can’t sing like Luther, and you’re killing it. Sing something else.”
Shaking his head, he couldn’t keep his smile at bay. “So what? You want me to protect you and perform for you?”
“We have to get you into the studio. Let’s do a duet together. Your voice is too incredible not to be shared.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Why not?”
“For the same reason you’re second-guessing your career. If by chance I get discovered, my life might change the way yours did. No more privacy. No more singing just for the love of it.” He shook his head. “Nah, I’m not interested.”
She nodded. “I hear you.”
They were still dancing as the song ended and another one started. Johnny Gill’s melodious voice filled the space as he sung about the soul of a woman. It was another one of Angelo’s favorite songs.
“Sing,” Zenobia demanded, and Angelo loosened his hold on her and burst out laughing again.
“Damn, woman. Bossy much?”
“You know, I don’t want to pull the you-work-for-me-card, but I will because that’s just how much I want to hear you sing.”
He shook his head and pulled her back into his arms, and snug against his body. Without further prompting, Angelo started singing again. He was glad he did, especially when Zenobia moaned and snuggled into him more, but then his heart jolted. Desire pulsed through his veins when she ran her fingers through the back of his hair. His shaft leaped to attention. Unbeknownst to her, his scalp was one of his erogenous zones, and she was killing him. No doubt she felt his erection against her stomach, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she ground against him, her hands still in his hair.
He growled, the low sound rumbling in his chest. “If you keep that up…” he murmured against her ear. When she didn’t stop, his hands slid down to her curvaceous ass which fit perfectly in his palms. He cupped her cheeks, then squeezed, pulling her firmly against him. “Zenobia,” he warned gruffly, his body tight with need.
She looked up at him, her eyes like molten lava and her parted lips begged to be kissed. Angelo couldn’t stop himself. He dipped his head and covered her mouth with his. A hunger like what he experienced the last time he kissed her burned through his body.
Before when they kissed, it had been a test to see how she’d respond to him, but this… This kiss was so much more. More potent. More passionate. More mind-blowingly intense. The velvety softness of her lips made his need to taste more of her grow like an out-of-control windstorm. He couldn’t get enough.
Music all but forgotten, Angelo backed her to a nearby wall. As he deepened their lip-lock, he slid his hand under her shirt, marveling at the softness of her skin as he cupped her breast. Heat blasted through his body. The little control he had when they first started—gone. He wanted her. Wanted her more than he’d wanted any woman in a long time.
His mind screamed for him to stop, but the stiff bulge inside of his pants pressed firmly against his zipper wanted him to keep going. He brushed the pad of his thumb over her taut nipple, and Zenobia gasped. She trembled against him, whimpering as he tweaked, teased, and tugged the hardened peak.
Zenobia ripped her mouth from his and groaned, the sensual sound turning him on more. Her hands were back in his hair. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”
That was all the encouragement Angelo needed. He trailed a path of feathery kisses along her jaw and worked his way down the scented column of her neck. He didn’t stop until his lips reached her breast. She was more than a handful and he cupped her mound, lowered his head and swiped his tongue across her nipple.
Zenobia whimpered, gripping his hair tighter as she bucked against him. Her erotic moans only made Angelo want to experiment more with her delectable body.
Three loud consecutive beeps from Angelo’s phone, and it was like ice water being poured over his head. He pulled back slightly and Zenobia’s nipple plopped out of his mouth.
Shit. What the hell was wrong with him?
He staggered upright, struggling to catch his breath and pissed that he’d lost sight of what he was supposed to be doing. Simultaneously, he reached for the gun on the counter, and pulled his phone from the back pocket of his jeans.
“What?” Zenobia asked next to him, her chest heaving as she pulled her tank top into place. “What is it?”
“An alarm. Someone’s on the property.”
Angelo opened the security app and pulled up the cameras that would give him a view of outside. Earlier that day, Supreme had sent several teams out to update Zenobia’s security system. They had installed cameras outside of the home and had placed sensors strategically around the perimeter of the huge yard and along the sides of the driveway. No one could get close to the house without them being alerted.
A vehicle drove up the long driveway toward the house.
“Do you know someone with a dark SUV, maybe a Jeep?” Angelo asked. He started to call Myles, who was on watch outside, but received a text from him.
Three people. Man driving. A woman in front and back.
“Kira’s boyfriend has a black jeep,” Zenobia said, walking toward the front of the house before Angelo gently tugged on the back of her tank top.
“Hold up.” He opened the door of the hall closet and quickly perused the items inside. Seeing a lightweight running jacket, he pulled out the garment. “Here put this on and zip it up.”
A possessiveness Angelo hadn’t experienced in a long while engulfed him. Protecting her was a given, but he sure as hell didn’t want another man gawking at her enticing body.
With one arm loosely around her waist, Angelo guided her toward the front door. He motioned for her to stop a few feet away near the entrance of a sitting room and brought his index finger to his mouth, signaling for her to be quiet.
As he inched toward the door, someone fiddled with the lock and doorknob. Zenobia had already told them that her housekeeper and cousin were the only two who’d had keys to her home. While updating the security system, they had changed all the locks.
Angelo glanced through the peephole, recognizing Kira from the photos Zenobia had shown him. He shot off a quick text to Myles, letting him know who the visitor was.
“It’s Kira,” he whispered, just as the woman got more insistent with ringing the bell, before she started pounding on the door.
Zenobia frowned. “What the heck is she doing here in the middle of the night?”
Angelo went to the alarm control panel that was in the front foyer near the door and disarmed it before walking back to where Zenobia stood. “Myles said that there are two other people. In a minute, let them in. I’ll be right beside you.”
As they moved forward, Angelo secured his pistol into the back of his waistband. Once he pulled his shirttail over it, he nodded for Zenobia to open the door.
Chapter Twelve
Open the door?
Heck, that was the last thing Zenobia wanted to do. Angelo’s hands and mouth had rocked her to the core, and her body was still pulsating. The rousing heat between her thighs needed tending to. Instead of inviting in company, what they should be doing was heading upstairs to finish what he started.
“Zenobia.” Angelo’s deep voice put a halt to the battle going on in her mind. His hand on her lower back wasn’t helping her situation. It only reminded her of how he made her skin tingle only moments ago.
It scared her to think that had the alarm not sounded, she would’ve let him have his way with her. And no doubt she would’ve enjoyed every tantalizing moment.
Who does that?
Zenobia didn’t even know the guy, not really, but she wanted him bad enough to leave Kira and whoever else outside on the front stoop.
“Go ahead and open the door,” Angelo urged.
Without a word, Zenobia unlocked the door and pulled it open. “Do you have any idea what time it is?” she bit out, glaring at her cousin who looked fresh and awake, as if it was nine o’clock in the morning instead of the middle of the night.
“I know exactly what time it is, but what’s up with the lock? My key didn’t work,” Kira said as she stepped across the threshold. “I was about to…” Her words trailed off when Angelo moved to stand next to Zenobia. Her cousin’s gaze did a slow, appreciative sweep down his body. She started at his tousled hair and worked her way to his untied Timberland boots. “Oh…my.
No wonder it took you so long to come to the door.”
Zenobia wasn’t a violent person, but right now it took every ounce of control not to scratch her cousin’s eyes out for checking out Angelo. Who could blame her, though? The man was too gorgeous to miss. Powerfully built. Sexy as hell. No, she couldn’t blame Kira for noticing.
“It’s almost three o’clock. Why are you here?” Zenobia asked as she closed the door.
“Wait.” Kira stopped her. “I have a surprise for you.”
At that moment, someone nudged the door open and Sofia walked in, Elijah following behind with two suitcases. Shock, followed by a burst of joy, slammed into Zenobia.
“Oh my God, Mamita! What are you doing here?” Zenobia lunged forward and wrapped her arms around the woman who she loved like a mother. The last three and a half weeks with her gone had been tough. Not just because of the crazy occurrences, but because Sofia was not just a housekeeper, or mother-like figure, she was Zenobia’s heart. The one constant in her life for over twelve years, and she hated when they were apart.
“God, I’ve missed you,” Zenobia murmured into the older woman’s neck, holding onto her like a lifeline. She understood Sofia’s need to return to where she’d grown up in Mexico, but Zenobia hated the separation.
At 5’4” with salt-and-pepper hair and lightly tanned skin, Sofia didn’t look a day over fifty, though she was in her early sixties. She might’ve been petite, but she had a huge heart filled with so much compassion and love.
“You’re not supposed to be back for another few days,” Zenobia said, her arms still around her dear friend.
“I’ve missed you, mija.” Sofia lowered her voice. “And I had a feeling.”
She didn’t have to elaborate. Zenobia already knew what that meant. In the past, when Zenobia was having a bad day or was having trouble, her mamita got a sixth sense about it. It didn’t matter if they were nowhere near each other, Sofia got that feeling that she once described as a light tickle on the back of her neck. They weren’t biologically related, but since meeting in Miami years ago, they had an unexplainable connection.
Betrayed (Atlanta's Finest Series Book 5) Page 10
