An Unexpected Attraction (Love Unexpected Book 3) (15 page)

She imagined him putting his mouth on some random woman. An actress or a donor’s socialite daughter. Imagined him kissing or touching them intimately and getting that gravelly sound to his voice. She put a hand to her stomach. The thoughts made her nauseous.

Jay glanced in her direction right then. His eyes bored into hers as if he’d known that she watched him all along, and she shifted her gaze to the other side of the room, embarrassed she’d been caught staring.

“What do you think?” the man on her left asked.

Brenda swung her head in his direction. “I think…” Oh boy, she had no idea what he’d said. “I think you should send me your idea. Standing around here, I’ll probably forget, but send me the details by email, and I’ll see what we can do.”

His face broke into an effusive, appreciative smile. “Thanks! I’ll do that.”

Before she could break away, a long time contributor to
Southern Art News
approached and pulled her into another conversation.

****

Jay set the empty glass of wine on a passing tray. He’d been drinking in an effort to loosen up the knot of tension in his shoulders. In all honesty, it was more than a knot. It was a bona fide boulder. He could have sent someone else from Omega Advertising, but he’d come because he wanted to see Brenda, thought he could handle seeing her in a public setting. Not so. Every time he caught a glimpse of her, he remembered sucking her nipples, tasting between her legs, fucking her against the wall.

He wanted back inside of her. He wanted to be close to her, in her presence, in her space, laughing and talking and enjoying her company the way everyone else tonight could.

His gaze swept the large room. He’d lost sight of her when she was pulled away by Usher’s publicist and hadn’t seen her for at least fifteen minutes. Maybe that was a good thing.

****

Dinner was served with well-rehearsed precision. Afterward, the master of ceremonies introduced the sponsors and organizers, which meant Brenda had to go to the stage and say a few words. She kept her speech short but mentioned how proud she was of her involvement in the foundation’s activities and looked forward to the additional programming and improvements that could be brought to the community with the money that had been raised.

After dinner, a band took over the stage, playing a mix of rock and slow ballads. She sat at a half-empty table with one of the Atlanta Falcons football players, who tried to get her number until she finally shot him down. He was now whispering in the ear of a young woman whose family owned a hotel chain headquartered in the city.

“Would you like to dance?”

Jay stood beside her chair, extending his hand toward her. She could say no, but that would be churlish and silly.

She took his hand, her fingers tingling as they touched, and let him lead her onto the dance floor. She stared at his broad back in the black tux and wished that things were different.

In the middle of the crowded dance floor, he pulled her into his arms. They drifted slowly to the cover of a popular song the band played. Three minutes in, his arm tightened around her waist and he pulled her closer. Her abdominal muscles answered by tightening. He was so hard and masculine. The scent of him pervaded her senses, and she actually felt weak in the knees, forced to hold onto him more tightly than she intended. In these heels she was only a few inches shorter, which meant she could easily turn her nose into his neck. He pulled her even closer, so close that anyone looking would have to question the nature of their relationship.

“You’re a standout among all the women here.” He whispered the words into her ear. The hairs of his beard brushed against her cheek, the same way they’d brushed the sensitive skin of her thighs, and his warm voice wreaked havoc with her sprinting heart.

“Jay…”

The fingers of his right hand were interwoven with the fingers of her left and tightened fractionally around hers. “I feel a little out of control,” he said, laughing uneasily.

“We shouldn’t….” Shouldn’t what? She wasn’t even sure what she wanted to say. She only knew that what was happening between them made her heart clench painfully.

He guided her in a slow turn, holding her inappropriately close. Her body pulsed and arched against his. The electricity generated between them could easily light the entire venue.

“Brenda.” Again he spoke in her ear, but this time his voice sounded hoarse, pained, and tortured.

Then, as if he had a sudden moment of clarity, Jay pulled away. The sudden movement left her momentarily stunned, almost reeling. She could only stare at him as he shoved his hands in his pockets, leaving her empty-handed and deprived of his touch.

A bitter smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “You’re right. We shouldn’t.” He looked around the room as if seeking an escape. “I shouldn’t have even come here tonight.”

Then he left her. Alone.

And more confused than she’d ever been in her life.

****

DJ Terror’s painting performance was a success. While the band played an instrumental compilation of his most famous hits, the flamboyant former rapper created two original 40 x 60 pieces of art on stage. One, mostly in shades of black and gray, appeared to be the silhouette of a woman holding a child. The second showed the stark reality of growing up in an impoverished neighborhood in dark brooding colors of black, navy blue, and maroon. Both were auctioned off for hefty sums, and then the lights dimmed low and he did an impromptu performance that had the high-brow crowd on their feet, bouncing their shoulders and swinging their hips.

Brenda decided this would be a good time to leave. After a few more instructions to the photographers and reporter, she went through a side door into the hall and had every intention of calling her driver when Jay came up behind her and caught her by the elbow. The warmth of his touch sent tingles scurrying up her arm.

“Heading home?” he asked, staring straight ahead as they walked.

“Yes. I’m done for the night.”

“Did you drive?” He stopped and looked down at her.

She couldn’t read the expression on his face and suspected he purposely kept his emotions hidden behind a veil of stoicism. “No, the magazine hired a driver for me.” She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “I was just about to call him.”

“Call him. Tell him you have a ride home.”

His jaw was set in such firm, rigid lines, it was clear he wouldn’t take no for an answer. The heat in his eyes made her heart race.

“All right,” she said softly.

Chapter
Fifteen

It was raining. Hard. The storm that had threatened earlier in the evening lashed the SUV and filled the driveway with water.

Brenda visited the memories of another night when Jay had taken her home in the rain. The inner lining of her bodice chafed against hard nipples, and the panties she wore became a restrictive band that constantly rubbed against her clit and made her ache to tear them off.

She realized with a start that she’d sat too long in the truck and stared out at the rain. Fierce, heavy drops of water hit the glass and slid down the windshield in snakelike formations. A slight chill filled the air, and she gathered her shawl over her bare arms to heat her skin a little.

“Thank you for the lift. I appreciate it.”

Jay’s hands rested on the steering wheel in the two o’clock and ten o’clock positions, like someone learning how to drive. They tightened over the leather surface. “You’re welcome. It was a great event.”

“We raised a lot of money. We should have the final figures some time next week.” She stared down at her hands. What else was there to say? Nothing, really. She was stalling. “Well, good night.” She reached for the door.

“Wait. I’ll come around.”

Her heart gave a little jump.

Jay reached into the backseat and pulled out a black and white umbrella. Then he was getting out of the Mercedes, and she watched him round the front of it to stand on her side.

Taking a deep breath, Brenda opened the door and stepped out to stand close to him. The door slammed and his arm went around her, fitting her against his solid body so they could walk under the umbrella without getting wet. His hand was warm through her clothes, and she nestled against him, wanting to turn her face into his chest and breathe him in.

She resisted the urge and trotted alongside him as he hustled them to the front door. They bound up the steps and onto the porch with only a few droplets touching her hand and the hem of her skirt.

She fit the key into the lock and could feel the heat of his gaze on the back of her neck.

“It’s raining really hard,” he said. “Mind if I come in for a cup of coffee or tea while I wait out the storm?”

Unable to determine his mood by the neutral tone of his voice, she turned to him, but the exterior lights backlit his head and cast his face in shadow, making it hard to read his expression. “Sure. That’s not a problem.”

He closed the umbrella and set it against the outer wall.

Brenda opened the door and flipped the light switch, illuminating the hallway. The house was oppressively quiet tonight, or maybe only seemed that way because she and Jay were quiet as they walked, past the living room and the open door of her bedroom. They didn’t laugh or talk.

In the kitchen, she set her wristlet and shawl on the counter and kicked off her heels.

“Tea or coffee?”

“Tea.”

She opened the cabinet door. “Black? Green?”

“You decide,” he replied.

She filled the electric kettle with water and plugged it in. While the water warmed, she reached up into the cupboard and pulled down two of her grandmother’s cups with the matching saucers.

“Sugar or honey?”

She turned around and caught him staring at her ass. She swallowed hard to quell the violent lurch of her stomach. He didn’t blush or appear the least bit embarrassed. He just stood there, with his hands turned backward and gripping the heavy walnut table behind him.

“Honey.” His voice was definitely lower, guttural, and goose bumps popped up on her arms.

Brenda went through the motions of preparing the tea. She placed a honey packet and teaspoon on a saucer. Dropped a teabag into the cup. Poured hot water over it. Then taking a deep breath, she walked over to him. The cup rattled against the saucer in her unsteady hand.

“This was my grandmother’s tea set,” she said.

Jay took the dishes and set them on the table. Before she could walk away, he grasped her wrist and held her in place. “I don’t care about tea or dishes, Brenda. That’s not why I’m here. That’s not why you allowed me to come in.”

Her eyes ran down his features, and he moved closer. So close that when she looked at him, she saw the short lashes on his lower lids.

“You let me in because you know what I want. And I know what you want.”

“What do you think I want?” she asked, a slight tremor in her voice.

“I
know
you want me. Like I want you. I want to lose myself inside of you again.”

Her lips went dry, and she moistened them with her tongue. He followed the movement with his eyes and continued to stare at her mouth when he asked in a low, hot voice, “Was that an invitation?”

In lieu of waiting for an answer, he jumped to his own conclusions and dipped his head. His kiss was soft, yet firm, and she moaned a little, shivering at the magnitude of excitement that filled her. He applied the right amount of pressure and there was the right amount of moisture in his kiss. The need for him was so strong, she shook from the force of it.

He pulled at the fullness of her bottom lip with his teeth, a playful tug that only served to arouse her more. She leaned into him, craving a closer connection.

His hands cupped her face and held her head in place as he deepened the kiss. He plied the seam of her lips with his tongue until it opened for him. Then he dipped in and their tongues touched. They both moaned at the contact and he forced her mouth wide, one hand tightening on the back of her head. Lordy, he tasted good.

The faint aroma of his cologne filled her nose, but more than anything, his individual scent—a scent she’d become acutely aware of over the years. She gripped his tight forearms when she threatened to sway on her feet.

Sensing her need to maintain balance, Jay switched positions and nudged her to the table until her bottom hit the edge. Over and over he continued a relentless sweep of her mouth with his tongue, stroking every corner, tasting every nook. His kisses left her out of breath and coaxed purrs from her chest.

She raised onto the tips of her toes and rubbed against the hard ridge of his erection, seeking relief from the pulsing ache between her legs. His hips pushed back and she gasped with pleasure. The intimate contact only deepened and tightened the coil of hunger that roiled in her abdomen.

Jay lifted his head and the moist sound of separation whispered between them. His grey eyes locked with her half-closed brown ones.

He breathed hard. The wall of his chest moved up and down in rapid succession. “If you don’t want to do this, if you want me to stop, you have to tell me now.” His already deep voice had fallen lower under the strain of need.

“I don’t,” she said in a shaky voice. But right away she saw he misunderstood what she meant because his eyes dulled. Her fingers tightened around his arm. “No, I mean I don’t want you to stop.”

Passion flared in his eyes, and when he kissed her again, she ceased thinking. His kiss was harder and held more intent. One arm wrapped around her body and his hand dragged up her dress. He stroked her thigh and ran his hand over her hip.

Then, without warning, he lifted her onto the table.

Gripping his firm deltoids, she hauled him closer. His kisses covered her neck even as his hands maneuvered the zipper at her back, and he pulled the bodice down, exposing her breasts to his heated gaze. He lowered her onto the table, the hard surface at her back as he brought his mouth down and sucked a breast.

“Mmm.” She arched into the tugging motion. The sensations of his warm, moist mouth made her ache to be filled.