Queen of His Heart (22 page)

Keenan gripped his dick and started stroking as he watched her.
Damn, she's so beautiful.
“Come on, baby. Come on,” he mumbled under his breath.

And come she did. Her mouth sagged open, her chest heaved and her breasts jiggled in the air. When her body calmed after the aftershock, her long lashes lifted and her gaze locked on his. “You look hungry.”

Maybe it was a coincidence, but he was suddenly hit with a hard hunger pang.

“Are you hungry, baby?” she asked.

“Starving.”

“I got some juicy fruit for you. Want some?”

“Hell, yeah.”

She smiled. “Then come on over. I have all you can eat.”

Keenan finally moved forward and knelt down. He looked up at her. Their eyes locked as his tongue slid into her, long and deep.

Air rushed out of Jalila's lungs, her hips jumped up. How had she forgotten how good he was at this? She tried not to come unglued as his tongue slipped and slid, dipped and glided. There was no slow building toward her second orgasm. It just hit her like a freight train. She screamed out, but still he continued to lap her up. It was too much, too intense. She tried to shove
him away, her clit now hypersensitive, but he didn't move—wouldn't move.

Orgasms number three and four had her inching up the desk, knocking over paper, in-boxes and God knew whatever else.
Don't let him take over. Get it together, girl.

That was easier said than done. Mercifully, Keenan stood up and looked for his pants. Jalila took the time to regroup. By the time he returned to the desk, condom on, she had stood up and walked away. “Now why do I get the impression that you want to fuck me?”

“Maybe because I'm naked and have a condom on,” he smirked.

She smiled. “But what if I don't think you deserve it?”

His brows inched up. “What kind of game are you playing?”

“You don't like games?”

“I just like to know what the game is.”

“All right,” she said, walking around the desk, deliberately adding extra
oomph!
to her switching hips. “How about we play Jalila, May I?”

He frowned, his hand still leisurely stroking himself.

“Jalila, May I? is sort of like Momma, May I? You have to do whatever I say after you ask, ‘Jalila, May I?'”

Keenan laughed. “All right. Let's play.”

She winked. “Sit in this chair.”

He started to move, but caught himself. “Jalila, may I?”

Her smile exploded. “Yes, you may.”

It was a relatively short game, since they were both hot and bothered. To Keenan, this whole thing felt like a dream. He had his woman back and she seemed more than willing to let bygones be bygones. In his head he was planning how they could have a whole new beginning, starting with a real courtship: taking her to fine restaurants, hanging out at the park with their dogs or even just serving her breakfast in bed. He wanted to do anything and everything for her.

Most of all, he just wanted to love her.

Sitting in his leather office chair, Keenan watched as Jalila straddled the chair and then slowly lowered herself onto his painfully hard erection. He was grinding his back teeth to damn near powder at the snug, tight fit.

“Fuck me, Keenan,” she whispered.

“Jalila, may I?”

“Yes, you may.”

It was on. Keenan locked an arm around her waist while his hips turned into a supercharged power drill. Jalila couldn't catch her breath. When the chair sounded as though it was seconds from breaking, Keenan stood up and Jalila locked her legs around his hips. She held on for dear life, their bodies slapping hard.

Curling the top half of his body, Keenan sucked in one of her fat nipples and went to town. The next thing she knew they were on the desk, against the wall, on the floor. Neither one of them could get enough.

When Jalila neared exhaustion and was on what she knew would be her last orgasm, she bit her lower lip and purred as she came. Smiling, she collapsed against
Keenan's sweaty chest and waited for the room to stop spinning.

“Just think,” he said. “It could always be like this.”

A tidal wave of emotion flooded Jalila as she closed her eyes. Still a lone tear managed to escape and rolled down her face. She pushed up off the floor on wobbly legs and then looked for her coat.

Keenan frowned. “What are you doing?”

She picked up her coat.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I gotta get home. Feed the dog.” She started buttoning her coat. “But hey, thanks. I really needed that.” Jalila tied her belt.

“Wait a minute. Hold up.” Keenan jumped to his feet and started to follow her to the door. “What the hell was this about?”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Wh-what do you think I mean? You just came over here to fuck me and leave?”

Jalila folded her arms. “Well, yeah,” she said, as though the answer was obvious. “Isn't that what we do?” She glanced at her watch. “I'd better go. Thanks again.” She blew an air kiss at him and then rushed out.

When she slammed the door, Keenan just stood there, dumbfounded.

 

Jalila stood on the other side of the door, wondering if she'd truly seen hurt flicker across Keenan's face a second ago or whether it was wishful thinking. She waited a couple of seconds, wanting him to come after her. He would if he cared, right? But when the door
remained closed, Jalila put one foot in front of the other and marched out of the main office.

She'd just slipped her key into the door of her SUV when Nitara whipped into the parking lot and drove over to her.

“Jalila, hey,” Nitara called. “I'm so glad I caught up with you. I was in a meeting when Dee Dee called and told me you were here. I rushed over as soon as I could.” She glanced around the lot. “Is she still here?”

Jalila hoped not—especially after all the racket she and Keenan had kept up. She opened her door and hopped in.

“Oh, Keenan's car is here.” Nitara looked at her, her gaze suspicious. “Did you talk to Keenan?”

“I gotta go,” Jalila said.

“So, about the show,” Nitara said, ignoring the fact that Jalila was hell-bent on leaving. “I'm sure I don't have to tell you that you left us in a pretty tight pinch when you left the show.”

Jalila slid the key into the ignition, but stopped short of starting the car.

“You know, we can script the ending if you no longer want to really date any of the guys. It's just that we've already put in so much money and time. I don't want to be crude but you
did
sign a contract.”

The wheels in Jalila's head started spinning.

“It would really help us out if—”

“Actually,” Jalila said, folding her arms, “If you still want me, I'll be more than happy to finish the show.”

Nitara's mouth dropped open. “You would?”

“Why not?” Jalila shrugged. “I'm still single.”

F
or the next two weeks, Jalila resumed her role as the bachelorette of the reality television series
Queen of Hearts
. Martina and Fantasia thought that this was a sign that her high-heels-and-dress-coat routine had worked—she had reclaimed her independence and sexual power.

Jalila knew otherwise. As much she wanted to claim that she'd successfully kept her heart and emotions separate from the physical, it simply wasn't true. Sex with Keenan wasn't
just
sex. Somehow Keenan got into her blood, tangoed with her soul. Instinctively they knew each other's moves, rhythms, what buttons to push and what buttons not to push.

To top it off, they were so much alike—independent and entrepreneurial. They loved sunsets, scary movies,
Great Danes and even salsa dancing. She loved how he took charge in the bedroom but was comfortable enough in his masculinity to let her take the reins once in a while. Sure, they hadn't known each other long, but it felt like a lifetime.

And yet, they weren't meant to be.

Right now she had to choose between Dontrell, Tion and Evander. They were all nice guys. Any one of them had the potential to be a really good friend, boyfriend or even husband. As the show neared the final taping, with all three suitors scripted to present her with a ring, Jalila could honestly say that she didn't have any idea which man's proposal she would accept.

“I say you should take Tion,” Fantasia suggested during a taped luncheon at Las Brisas. “He's smart and engaging. Plus, you never know, he might turn out to be the next Barack Obama.”

“You think all black politicians nowadays are the next Obama,” Martina said, sporting, unbelievably, her natural black hair color.

“I do not.” Fantasia kicked her under the table.

“Ouch.” Martina twisted her face. “Keep those hooves on your side of the table.” She turned her attention back to Jalila. “I think you should go for Dontrell. He's got all those muscles bulging everywhere. Makes me wonder if he knows how to work the one muscle that really counts.”

“Martina,” Jalila snapped.

“What?”

“This isn't a cable show.”

The cameraman chuckled.

Martina tossed the man a wink and then made a gesture with her hands indicating that he should give her a call.

Fantasia and Jalila just rolled their eyes at Martina's antics.

“Who are you feeling?” Fantasia asked Jalila.

Keenan
. “Oh, I don't know. I think they're all really sweet guys.”

“Sweet?” Martina swirled her wineglass. “What kind of answer is that? Either you're feeling these brothas or not. Hell, who knows? Maybe you'll have to do a season two.”

Jalila and some of the TV crew groaned at that possibility.

“Aaaaaannnnd cut!” Wolfe yelled and then stepped from behind camera number one. “Can the crew keep it quiet?”

Everyone glanced around, feeling thoroughly reprimanded.

Much later, Jalila took Evander to her parents' place. This really wasn't a big deal since all the bachelors had gotten the chance to meet her mom and dad. Her father had walked around the house, puffing out his chest and drilling the men on everything from credit scores to criminal records. Dontrell had come clean that he'd gotten picked up for shoplifting when he was ten.

Of course, they, too, had an opinion about whom she should chose. Her father was pulling for Dontrell, her mother for Evander. Jalila silently wished her parents could've met one other bachelor.

 

Sidebar, camera one:

Sidebar, camera two:

Keenan felt as though he was sleepwalking through his sister's engagement party. Their parents had turned their house on wheels around and made it back in time to shower their only daughter with love and gifts. Keenan had opened up his home for the party. By his calculation his sister must have invited everyone in the Los Angeles and Beverly Hills area, but seeing his sister so happy and beaming
on Jaheim's arm made handing over his platinum card worth it.

Yet, as the night wore on, he began feeling envious of his sister's happiness. Suddenly the idea of starting a whole new chapter in life with someone you loved seemed overwhelmingly beautiful and ideal.

He walked out of the house through the back door and was instantly accompanied by Chips. At least for now the dog had stopped giving him the cold shoulder. He walked around the grounds thinking about the direction he was going in his life. He thought about all the goals that he'd been working toward for so long and that had seemed perfectly fine a month ago. Now they all seemed empty—meaningless.

Success means nothing without someone you love to share it with.
Now where had he heard that?

As Keenan walked, faint music from the party reached him, and his mind drifted to the last time he'd seen Jalila. The memory of her waltzing out of his office and thanking him so casually for serving her still stunned him. Yet it held up a mirror to all those one-night stands he'd had between his divorce and meeting Jalila. Essentially, hadn't he done the same thing?

Wasn't that her point?

Then, to top things off, she'd decided to continue with
Queen of Hearts
—effectively giving him the middle finger. Her decision did save A.M. Production, and he and Nitara were now on target for the three shows he had pitched to the network. Quite frankly,
however, he would rather have taken the hit if it meant that he could win Jalila's heart.

“There you are.”

Keenan looked up from his reverie and smiled when he saw his sister approaching. “Hey, you.” He swung his arm around her shoulder. “What are you doing out here? The party is for you, remember?”

“I was looking for you.” She leaned into his chest. “You disappeared on me.”

He shrugged. “I just stepped out for a moment for some fresh air. I wasn't trying to escape, I promise.”

“You don't have to escape—you don't even seem like you're really here.”

Keenan's gaze fell to his feet as they walked. “Think you know me so well, do you?”

“Absolutely,” she said confidently. “But I gotta tell you, I'm disappointed that you didn't tell me about you…and Jalila.”

They walked a few feet before he said, “Who told you?”

“Nitara. She said that you told her that you loved her.”

He gave her a sad laugh. “Well, that and a nickel will get me right where I am. Nowhere.”

“Did you tell Jalila?”

“She's not interested in anything I have to say.”

“How do you know?” she probed.

“Well, that part I'm not willing to share with my little sister.” He tried to laugh again, but it just didn't sound right.

Keisha stopped walking. “Do you or do you not love this woman?”

“I do, but—”

“There is no
but
,” she said. “You know, all my life I've looked up to you. You're smart, you're a go-getter.” Keisha glanced around. “And you seem to do okay for yourself.”

“If you're trying to stroke my ego it's working.”

She smiled. “I just don't get why
now
you won't go after what you want.”

“You're not listening,” he said, shaking his head. “Jalila hates me.”

“How do you know?”

“Trust me. I know.”

Keisha was silent for a moment. “Women are complicated.”

“Now
that
I've figured out all on my own.”

“It's great to
know
that you're loved. It's great to
feel
that you're loved.” She stared up into her brother's eyes. “But one thing we all need and crave is to
hear
that we're loved. The words mean so much.” Tears shimmered in her eyes. “We act out when we think we're not valued. Some of us slash tires or break headlights to hear the words, and some of us give you a taste of your own medicine to make a point.”

Suddenly it dawned in Keenan's eyes.

“If you love Jalila and you want any real chance with her, then you need to
tell
her.”