Landon's Obsession: An Endless Series: Book 3 (Series 3) (11 page)

     Maya stared at me looking nonplussed for a moment, but
then she frowned. “My mom doesn’t really think like that. Something happened to
her and she’s now…cautious around people who have money; especially, when it
concerns me.”

     I duplicated her frown. “What something?”

     Still frowning, she shifted. “That’s kind of personal.”

     I barely hid my scowl of discontent. “Maya, your mother
is stopping you from hanging out with me just because I have money, and I hope
I was hearing it wrong but it also sounded like she wanted us to keep our
distance because of our different races. Both those things are kind of
prejudice, don’t you think?” 

     Her eyes darkened, looking sad. “Mama’s not like that.
She has no problem with my other white friends. The fact that you’re rich
and
white, and might show an interest in me, has just made her fretful. She’s had a
bad experience and it left quite a mark on her. Anyway, your mother doesn’t
want you hanging out with the help, that’s kind of prejudice, isn’t it?”

     I reached out and covered her hand on the chair with
mine. It seemed so small and fragile under mine. Maya breathed in deeply at the
contact but didn’t pull away. “I’m not my mother. You’re not your mother. I
don’t want my mother’s control issues or your mother’s bad experience to
interfere with us becoming friends.”

     Maya’s face flushed and she gave me timid smile. “It’s
not the friend’s part that has my mama worried.”

     I drew in a deep breath stroking the soft skin of her
hand with my thumb. “Well, she does have something to worry about there.” Her
eyebrows arched and her mouth opened in surprise. What…because I admitted it?

     “Maya, I can’t deny that I’m enormously attracted to
you in the physical sense. Every time you are anywhere near me my body stands
up in notice.” She blushed bright at my explicit words. “But I also like
talking with you. I’ve never really enjoyed talking with a female before you.
Most females think a good conversation consists of talking about boob jobs,
shopping excursions, the latest present they got from daddy, or they extol over
the amount of money my family has. Meeting you has been like discovering an
entirely new species.”

     A little more truth spilled out of me than I had
planned, but the pleasure I saw on Maya’s face made it worth it. She’d looked
gob-smacked at my mention of boob jobs, but then the corner of her mouth
twitched up. “So you’re telling me I have to keep boob jobs off our discussion
list? Bummer, I was really looking forward to that conversation.”

     That she was joking with me gave me hope and I smirked.
“Don’t get me wrong, I like talking about breasts as much as the next guy, but
let’s keep it real.”

     Maya laughed…
God, she had a great laugh
.
“Naturally you do.”

     I chuckled at her return pun. That was another thing I
never did with other females…laugh. Caressing her hand again I waggled my
eyebrows. “So what do you say? Want to see my sketchings?”

     Another uncertain look flickered across her face, but
she nodded. “Yes…but don’t think I’m going up to your bedroom to look at them.”
She smirked, pulling her hand from mine and wrapped both arms around her tiny
waist. 

     I did a mental fist bump in the air at her agreement. “Well,
since you’ve already been up to my room to look at my sketchings that would be
redundant.” I retorted with a huge smile I couldn’t contain.

     She shook her head in mock irritation. “You’re a
dingle-dork.”

     I gaped at her. “What in the hell is a dingle-dork?”

     She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s something my mama
always says to me when I’m being silly, but it kind of fits a guy better.”

     I frowned. “Why is that?”

     She grinned. “Dingle-dork…a dork with a dingle.”

     I barked out a laugh at her juvenile sexual remark.
“Yeah, it does fit a guy better.” I saw another table waving Maya down and knew
it was time to wrap this up. “So tomorrow?” I asked with a pointed look.

     Her mouth pursed delightfully in thought, making me
want to devour them thoroughly, and her eyes pinched slightly in thought. She
looked so damn innocent as she considered my proposal, and I wondered if it was
all an act. Women tried so many ways to catch my interest. A few had tried the
innocent girl act, but their true colors hadn’t taken too long to shine
through, and their lack of innocence hadn’t taken long to disprove either. Maya
was probably no different. She radiated innocence, but it had to be act. A girl
that looked like her couldn’t be all that innocent.

     There was a part of me, a part that revealed I wasn’t
completely cynical, that hoped she was as she appeared though.

     “I get off at eight.” She finally declared softly.

     Yes! We could finally start getting somewhere. I
dropped enough money on the table for my food and a large tip. Standing I
stepped up to the right side of her and bent down to whisper in her ear. “Do
you have a curfew?”

     She shivered and inhaled sharply causing my body to
throb even more knowing that I was having an affect on her. “Midnight.” She
answered breathlessly.

     Four hours…a lot could be accomplished in that amount
of time. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” My nose brushed her silky dark hair and
I inhaled her coconut vanilla smell. The desire to kiss her was nearly
overwhelming, but I forced myself to step back and walk away. Now wasn’t the
time or place…but it would be soon.

     I saw Darrel as I walked out and gave him a hard glare
that stated clearly; ‘Maya’s mine, go near her and I’ll kick your ass’.

     His lips thinned telling me he got the message.

∞                   
∞                    ∞

     “I’m ready.”

     I looked up from my phone to see Maya step up to the
table I’d been sitting at for the past fifteen minutes waiting for her to get
off work.

     And then I had to clench my jaw so it didn’t drop open
at how much more stunning she looked. The first thing I noticed was that her
black hair was finally down. It was long and thick, reaching to her tips of her
breasts, glossy with big ringlets at the ends. It called to my hands, making me
want to thread my fingers through it, grasping it near the roots so I could
haul her in close. Her makeup was minimal; black eyeliner, blush, and deep pink
lip color enhanced her already perfect features. She was wearing a red short
sleeved blousy shirt—red was definitely her color—that reached to the middle of
her hips, tight dark jean Capri’s that showcased burnished tan legs from the
knees down, and red flat sandals. Her toenails were painted a dark red to
match.

     Damn, she was fucking hot. She reminded me a petite ballerina.

     I stood up, stepping into her personal space. “You look
fucking amazing.” I exclaimed huskily.

     She was nearly a foot shorter than me and had to tip
her head nearly all the way back to look up at me. Brown eyes filled with dark
mysteries captured mine and I could have drowned in them if the noise and
clattering of the restaurant hadn’t been such a distraction.

     Giving myself a shake I grinned down at her. “You are
really short.”

     Her eyes widened in amused affront. “
Et vous avez un
front en forme estrangement
.”

     Her French almost threw me, but I returned her
affronted look. “I do not have a weirdly shaped forehead.”

     She patted my arm giving me a sympathetic look. “Don’t worry;
you’ll always have your mother’s love. At least that’s what I’m told.”  

     I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face if I tried. No
female had ever found fault with my looks before, they only ever went into
raptures over me because of who I was. And while I knew they were manipulative with
their praise, I did know I was pretty damn good-looking.

     “I’m catching some strong vibes that you’re sensitive
about your height.”

     “What ever gave you that idea?” She asked looking
mystified.

     I grinned at her evasiveness.

     Her expression changed to eager. “So, did you bring
those drawings?”

     Once again, the sight of her enthusiasm for my art had
something in my chest shifting. “Yes I did.” I cocked my head to the notebook table.

     Without wasting time Maya shifted into the booth and
reached for the fourteen by seventeen drawing tablet, but before opening it she
gave me one last glance looking for consent. I slid in opposite of her with a
nod, and then watched in surprising nervousness as she flipped over each page,
unhurriedly examining each one. Very few people had seen my drawings, as they
were mostly for me, so it was kind of nerve-racking watching her study them so
closely.

     “Oh, my gosh. These are incredible, Landon.” She looked
up, face animated. “There’s so much detail.” Head bowing she turned another
page. “You are so lucky to have seen something containing so much history.” She
breathed wistfully. Smiling, she met my eyes again. “And I’m lucky to see it
through your eyes. I can almost feel the emotion you were feeling as you drew
each line. It
was
marvelous, wasn’t it, viewing those extraordinary
buildings?”

     Shit, it was like she was reading my art, and me.
Seeing those structures had moved me more than any other thing I’d put down on
paper…except maybe for her.

     “I don’t know how you can keep these in a book. They
all need to be up on your wall.” She skimmed through the tablet briefly, noting
that all the pages were filled, and shook her head with a chuckle. “But then
there’s probably not enough wall space for all of them. You must have spent
hours upon hours in front of each building to have this many different angles.”

     She was right; I had spent hours at those sights. Our
family had visited Italy three years ago; it had been a business slash pleasure
vacation. When my father was off doing his thing, the same as my mother, I’d
spent my time sketching the city. I had to admit, those times walking around by
myself drawing had been the highlight of my trip.

     “Yeah, I went a little crazy drafting each angle, each
viewpoint brought something new.”

     “I can imagine.” She declared fervently, continuing to
turn pages.

     I stared at her curiously. “You seem to have a real
passion for art, do you draw yourself?”

     She shook her head with another small chuckle. “No, I
couldn’t draw anything to save my life, unfortunately, but I love all kinds of
art; drawings, sculptures, even junk art. The way people turn thrown away
material into something beautiful is amazing, I think.”

     Being in Maya’s presence was always stimulating, but
hearing her enthusiasm for art, my favorite subject, only amplified what I was
already feeling.

     I leaned forward, my heart thumping. “That’s actually
one of my favorite kinds of art as well. Joe Pogan and Tom Deininger are really
good. Do you know their work?” I threw out two leading artists in junk art to
find out if she really knew what she was talking about, or just spouting shit
to catch my attention. Too many other girls tried pretending interest in something
but then didn’t know shit about the subject.

     Maya leaned forward, eyes brilliant. “Yeah, they do a
lot of metal art. I like those guys too. But my favorites are done by Yong Ho
Ji. He does those sculptures using recycled rubber tire. I can’t believe how
life like they are.”

     I stared at her feeling somewhat bowled over. “I love
his work too. They are crazy realistic, and detailed.”

     “I’m a sucker for anything animal and mythical, and he
excels at those.” She added, and then she blushed. “I think that’s why I liked
your drawings of me so much, they had a magical quality about them.”

     I suddenly felt my cheeks warming at her praise. Shit!
Clearing my throat I leaned back. “Hey, are you hungry at all? Did you get to
eat dinner?”

     She grinned, and I wonder if she caught my
discomfiture. “Yes, I had a break around four and ate then.”

     “That was more than four hours ago; you want some
dessert?” This was supposed to be a date, and some kind of meal was required,
wasn’t it? I’d never been on one before but I knew buying dinner was on the top
of the list for a date night.

     “Aren’t you sick of ice cream yet? You’ve had it three
days in a row.” She smirked.

     “Is it possible to get sick of ice cream?” I asked,
giving her a look of exaggerated disbelief.

     She nodded vigorously. “Yes. When I first started here
I went a little crazy and nearly started to hate ice cream, but then I reigned
myself in and took a long hiatus from it. So I still like it, but I’ve learned
to space it out to every other week now.”

     Well, shit. There was always a movie, but I didn’t want
to take her to the theater because then we wouldn’t be able to talk, and surprisingly
I wanted to talk to her. “How about we pick up some movie theater popcorn and
go to a party? Do you like parties?”

     A small indent appeared between her eyes. “Yes, but I
normally like to hang out with people I
know
.”

     I grinned. “You’ll know me, and several close friends
will be there that I would like you to meet. They aren’t bad guys even though
they are my friends.”

     She grinned back. “I’m not opposed to meeting new
people.”

     I breathed easier with a plan for the night. It had
been more difficult than I thought trying to think up ideas for tonight. “Cool.
You ready to go than?”

     “Sure.” She grabbed her purse as I picked up my drawing
tablet. “Should I follow you in my car?” She asked as I tentatively placed my
hand at her back to guide her out of the restaurant. That was another thing
dates did, didn’t they?