a party for him last night. I’d talked about leaving early because the food had been lame, but she kept insisting I stick around. When her gorgeous friend showed up, I understood why, but didn’t think anything of it. She’d been trying to arrange for us to meet ever since he’d moved back to Atlanta a couple of months ago. But she was overly cheerful when he arrived and all but pushed him on me, rather than simply introducing us and letting nature take its course. And she’d been antsy—almost as if she was invested in me spending more time with him.
Given just how gorgeous Damon is, I had to ask Maureen if they’d ever been involved. Thankfully, they hadn’t. He was the brother of a guy she’d dated seriously in college.
Hindsight being twenty-twenty, I can see now that Maureen was anxious for me to meet Damon because she’d heard about Rugged’s engagement. She’d probably called Damon and begged him—heck, paid him—to show up at the station so that he could be a distraction for me.
Maybe that’s what he can be now …
I loosen my grip on the steering wheel and let my mind wander back to last night and just how hot I’d been for Damon. It’s not often I feel an instant attraction to someone, but with Damon, I did. He’s sexy, funny and easily the kind of guy I could have tried to seduce. But I wasn’t looking for a one-night stand. I was interested in pursuing something real.
Now I’m ready to fast-track our relationship and jump into bed with him. With those strong thighs, he must be good at fucking. I wonder if his tongue is equally as strong… .
Suddenly I’m remembering Rugged’s tongue all over my pussy. I draw in a sharp breath, my clit throbbing in response to the graphic image playing out in my mind. I may not think that Rugged and I had a chance at a future, but that doesn’t mean I don’t miss the amazing sex we had. And damn, talk about a guy who loved to eat pussy.
Does he eat Randi’s pussy with the same lust that he did mine?
“For fuck’s sake,” I say aloud. After cussing on the air last month, I am trying to tone down my potty mouth, but I have a feeling that today I’m going to have to give myself a pass.
I’m not even sure why I’m so surprised that Rugged’s engaged. I’d heard that he was dating that rail-thin model. More like a wannabe model. Randi’s the daughter of a local television producer, which, if you ask me, is how she ended up landing various modeling campaigns. I was shocked when the news broke that Rugged was dating her, because after dating me, well, she just didn’t seem like his type.
I glance at my car’s digital display. It is two thirty-six. A full ten minutes since I pulled into this strip mall.
Is this why Rugged called me? I saw his number on my phone three times last week, but he didn’t leave a message. Maybe he wanted to tell me about his plans to propose before he popped the question.
Honestly, so what if Rugged is getting married? It’s not like he broke my heart and ran off with someone else.
I start my car and drive out of the parking lot. I head right, in the direction of my brownstone in Buckhead. But then I think about Annelise’s words: Why don’t you call him? Take the initiative and suggest a second date.
I hit the Phone button on my steering wheel. Then, using the car’s Bluetooth controls, I find Damon’s number, which I programmed into my BlackBerry last night. That’s the one thing I love about this car, how I can sync up my mobile device to it and not use an earpiece because the car is the Bluetooth. Within seconds, Damon’s number is ringing.
I am aware that I’m calling Damon right now because I need a distraction, not because I’m thinking about growing our relationship. I’m ready to get naked with him. And in case you’re wondering, that’s not something I do all the time. In fact, I was celibate for two years after I divorced my cheating husband. And when I end up in bed with someone, it’s usually because I’m going to have a relationship with him.
Like Rugged.
I don’t want to think about Rugged anymore, because the truth is, the news that he’s getting married has shifted my world off its axis. I don’t know why. There was no chance we could ever make a life together.
And yet …
And yet what? If I don’t want him, certainly someone else can have him.
Damon’s deep baritone interrupts my thoughts of Rugged. “Hello?”
“Hey, Damon. It’s Lishelle.”
“Lishelle, hi.” He sounds tired. No surprise there. We were up quite late.
“I was wondering what you were up to.”
“Right now?”
“Yeah.” And then I add in the best seductive voice I can come up with, “I was hoping we could pick up where we left off last night.”
“Really?” Damon sounds surprised, but I’m not sure if he’s pleased.
“There’s no time like the present.” He also lives in Buckhead, not too far from my place.
He chuckles softly. “I can’t argue with your logic.”
“Is that a yes?” I ask, my voice almost a purr. “Do you want to see me?”
“Definitely.”
I’m grinning as I press the button to end the call. The smile intensifies when I get to Damon’s door and he opens it, wearing nothing but a pair of faded jeans that hang low on his hips.
His eyes light up when he sees me. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”
“What’s the point in playing that childish game of waiting for the other person to call first?” I place a hand on his chest, forcing him to take a step backward so that I can enter the house. His lips curl in a slow, devilish grin, the kind that says he can’t wait to get his hands on me.
The feeling is mutual.
Seriously, to look at him now, in the daylight, his body all hard, magnificent muscles, I wonder how I kept myself from jumping his bones last night.
But I don’t think about that now. All I think about is quenching my thirst for lust.
This is totally out of character for me. I’m very selective about who I go to bed with. A guy has to really turn me on for me to be interested, and I generally prefer for my brain to be stimulated as well as my body. But every so often, I guess a woman meets a man who connects with her on a carnal level.
That’s Damon.
Honestly, I didn’t expect that when I ended up at his place he would honor his word not to get me naked. That had been his promise to me at Sambucca lounge—that if I went home with him, we’d chat, hang out and nothing else.
Somehow—except for one hot kiss—exactly that had happened. And I’d appreciated it. The fact that he honored his word has endeared him to me more.
“You don’t want to talk?” he asks me, his voice playful.
“Maybe later,” I tell him. “But first, I want you to kiss me again.”
Damon’s smile says he knows he’s got me. Last night, the kiss damn near had me taking my clothes off, but I had refrained because we had both been playing the “we’ll-be-good” game.
Damon moves toward me, and the next instant, my eyes are fluttering shut as his mouth connects with my skin. His kiss begins at my neck, with broad, sweeping strokes of his tongue. His tongue moves from the base of my neck to the underside of my jaw, eliciting sweet sensations over every part it touches. When he has done the same to the other side of my neck, he gently sinks his teeth into the skin on my cheek. From there, his mouth moves to my mouth, where instead of simply kissing me, his teeth graze my bottom lip. His fingers stroke the baseline of my jaw as we neck, adding to the delicious tingling going through my body.
I’m