Forever Craving You

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Forever Craving You Page 17

by Nia Arthurs


  I let the phone slide off my cheek. Brace myself on the counter.

  The kitchen door swings open.

  Zania’s footsteps patter toward me. I feel a touch on my back. “Chandra, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” I inhale a deep breath. Spin. Smile. “I’m an idiot, but I’m fine.”

  She stares at me like I’ve gone crazy.

  A laugh putters from my lips.

  All my life, I lived by my mother’s twisted philosophy. I let her bitterness against my absent father rule me. For so long. I never thought for myself, never questioned any of it.

  I squeeze my eyes shut.

  Like a child, I swallowed it all.

  And that’s on me.

  But I’m in charge of my own life.

  I make my own decisions.

  I decide what I believe and who I love and why I love.

  “Chandra?”

  I whirl around. March past her. Grab my purse and wallet. On the way out, I stop and hold Zania’s shoulders. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

  “What?”

  I don’t wait around to explain more.

  The bells chirp and jangle as I crash through the door.

  Out into the sunlight.

  Across the sidewalk.

  I thrust my hand out and flag a taxi. Hop in. Give him the address. My shoes tap the floor impatiently until Ollie’s gym appears in my sight.

  Jenine jumps to her feet when I rush through the front door. Her blue eyes widen to the size of my fists. “Chandra?”

  “Where’s Ollie?” I ask, chest heaving.

  “Uh…”

  “Is he in the office?”

  She shakes her head. Points upstairs. “Chandra, are you okay?”

  “Better than okay.” I grin. “ Thanks.” My heels clack against the floor as I rush up the stairs and head into the gym.

  The wide, open space is filled with natural sunlight. A handful of men are working out at the various equipment stations.

  I spot Ollie standing near a man lifting large weights. He’s dressed in a hoodie and black jersey pants.

  My steps slow.

  He’s so hot, he takes my breath away.

  He hears me coming.

  Turns.

  Blue eyes widen in surprise.

  I grin and start running.

  31 Ollie

  The last person I expect to see when I turn around is Chandra.

  But there she is.

  Looking stunning in that navy jacket and flirty little mini-skirt that shows off her long legs.

  All the guys in the gym immediately stop and take notice.

  I’m too shocked to get jealous.

  “What are you doing…?” Before I can finish the question, Chandra starts running.

  I’m talking Olympic track-star running.

  One minute, she’s at the other end of the room. The next she’s in my arms.

  Her heels give her a couple inches.

  She easily winds her arms around my neck.

  I try to pull back.

  I’m sweaty. Smelly. People are watching.

  And… none of this makes sense.

  What is she doing here? Is something wrong?

  Then she leans in.

  That strawberry scent of hers fills the air.

  I eagerly breathe it in as she plants that luscious mouth on mine.

  All of a sudden, nothing else matters.

  Her lips are soft. Warm.

  I move with them.

  Taste them.

  They’re sweet. Like strawberries. Must be her lip gloss.

  Her fingernails scrape the skin of my neck as she pulls me closer.

  I’m liking where this is going.

  A lot.

  My hands wind around her waist. Brush her hip. Feel her soft body meld against mine.

  She’s so fine.

  So beautiful.

  So damn irresistible.

  Hoots and cheers break out around me. The noise shakes me out of my daze. Reminds me we’re not alone.

  Chandra pulls back. Excitement stirs in her eyes.

  I lean away, still holding her, but putting enough space between us so I can think. “What’s going on?”

  “I love you.”

  I let out a stunned chuckle. “What?”

  “I love that you’d jump in and defend a lady you don’t even know in the parking lot of a bar when some old guy is hitting on her.”

  A smile quirks my lips.

  Chandra tosses her head. Long black hair falls in place behind her back. “I love that you’ve been feeling me for a year, but you didn’t do anything because you thought I was out of your league.”

  Oohs break out around me.

  “Come on now,” I say through the side of my mouth, “don’t be outing me.”

  She caresses my cheek with a dark thumb. Curls the fingers of her free hand into the front of my hoodie. “I love that you’re not normal, Ollie. I love that you feel things deeply and you regret your mistakes and you try not to repeat them. I love that you want to love me properly because it makes me want to love you more.”

  My heart’s beating like it’s gone mad.

  I couldn’t ever dream of this moment, but I’m glad it’s here.

  “I love you,” I whisper.

  She smiles.

  The one that reaches her eyes.

  The one that knocks the breath out of my lungs and every thought from my mind.

  Man, look at me.

  Chandra’s got me confessing my feelings in front of the guys.

  I’m whipped.

  I’m so whipped.

  Damn, but it feels good.

  She releases her fingers. Smoothes the front of my hoodie. Winks. “I can see that you’re busy so…” She leans in. Scrapes her bottom lip against my ear. “We’ll finish this conversation later.”

  Electricity skitters through every nerve.

  “I can’t wait,” I reply for her ears only.

  She gives me another wicked grin, turns and sashays out the door.

  Just like that.

  She’s gone.

  Quick as she’d come.

  “Yo, Ollie! That your girlfriend?”

  “She got a sister?”

  I wave away the inquires flying at me left and right. “Alright, alright. Get back to work.” I jog to the door. Spot Chandra walking down the stairs. “Chandra!”

  She stops. Looks up. “What are you doing? I can get back on my own.”

  “ I know.” I take the steps two at a time until I’m level with her. “You came all the way here. Least I could do is call you a taxi.”

  “Such a gentleman.”

  I take her hand. Fit our fingers together. “Did something good happen today?”

  “Mm?” She bites her bottom lip. For a second, I’m dazed by how unintentionally seductive she looks, but then she talks and I tune back in. “I just… remembered how fortunate I am to have found you.”

  I bring her hand to my lips and kiss the back of it. “Then I’ll keep reminding you. I want more visits like this.”

  She chuckles. Warm brown eyes look at me. No walls. No guards.

  It’s nice to know that I’m changing her just as much as she’s changing me.

  For so long, I wanted her.

  Now I have her.

  But the craving’s only gotten worse.

  Chandra’s it for me.

  I’ll never get enough of her.

  Perfect torture.

  I’m exactly where I want to be.

  32 Epilogue: Chandra

  Seven Months Later

  “He insists he’s not coming to the wedding,” I complain to Cobie as we clean up her new salon space.

  Well, she’s cleaning.

  I’m providing moral support.

  My best friend thrusts the broom over the stylish tiled floors. “Babe, it’s only been a couple weeks since he decided to forgive himself. Do you really expect him to change his mind that quickly?”
/>   “Yes!”

  Zania chuckles.

  I glare at her.

  She gives me a knowing smirk.

  The sweetheart that she is, Zania agreed to join Cobie’s cleaning brigade when I brought it up at closing today. Her smile cannot be hidden as she ducks her head and keeps wiping down the fancy purple chairs Cobie custom-ordered.

  “Men are stubborn. Especially your man.” Cobie points a finger at me. “Just be patient.”

  “Says the most impatient woman in the room.”

  “Ladies, ladies,” Zania straightens. “You’re both impatient. It’s why you get along so well. And might I add that hearing you complain about your relationship is really depressing given I’m not in one.” She pokes a dark finger to her blouse. “Perpetually single over here. At least be grateful you found a guy willing to change for you.”

  “He’s changing for himself.”

  “Even so, Griffin thinks Ollie would have gone to his grave with all that guilt if it wasn’t for you.”

  I get that.

  I do.

  But Ollie’s guilt is still there.

  Just yesterday, when I brought up Catherine’s wedding and possibly color coordinating our outfits, he got all grouchy on me. We didn’t end the call on the happiest note.

  I love the guy, but he can be freaking annoying.

  A work in progress—that’s all I’m gonna say about that.

  “Whatever,” I peer at Zania. “And what are you talking about. Perpetually single? I thought you were going after Teale?”

  “Oh? You mean the playboy who sleeps with anyone who has a pulse? No thank you.”

  Cobie arches an eyebrow. “Did something happen?”

  “Of course not,” Zania says quickly. Too quickly.

  I smirk. “Oh, well, maybe that’s a good thing. It’s been a while since he left for Australia. Ollie says he might not come back any time soon.”

  “Hoo-ray.” Zania huffs. Wipes the chair harder. “This stupid piece won’t come off.”

  Cobie glances at me over Zania’s head what happened?

  I shrug who knows?

  We drop the topic and finish setting the rest of Cobie’s salon up. At the end of the night, I’m exhausted, hungry, but proud.

  “We did good, Babe.” I hook my arm around Cobie’s shoulders as we survey her new business.

  Tears fill her eyes. “I know.”

  Just then, the door opens and Griffin and Ollie walk through.

  “Look who showed up when the work is all done,” I snap.

  Ollie eyes me, his dark blues giving me that look. The one that says he likes what he’s seeing.

  I scoff. Glance away.

  There will be no eye-flirting tonight.

  Griffin fixes his shirt nervously. “My appointment took longer than I thought.”

  “What appointment?” Cobie asks.

  Griffin gets on his knees. Produces a ring.

  Cobie gasps.

  My hand flies to my mouth.

  Zania squeals.

  “Cobie Simmons, this salon is a new beginning and I’d like us to have one too. As husband and wife.”

  I feel someone grab my arm and hustle me to the side.

  Ollie’s voice rumbles in my ear. “We’re in the shot.” He points to where Zania is recording with a cell phone.

  “I’ve loved you since high school,” Griffin says. “And when we met again, I fell in love with you all over…”

  “Should I record it too?” I ask, fumbling for my pocket.

  “I think Zania’s got it,” he whispers back.

  Griffin lifts the ring higher. “Cobie, will you do me the honor of being my wife.”

  Tears sting the back of my eyes.

  My best friend can barely talk she’s crying so hard, but she nods yes. Griffin laughs happily and slides the ring on her finger. Then he stands and the two kiss.

  I twist my neck to look up at Ollie.

  He has one hand bracing my waist. His eyes are on my face.

  I smile.

  He kisses my temple.

  Just like that, all is forgiven.

  As we applaud the newly engaged couple, as Griffin surprises us all with champagne and chocolate strawberries, as Ollie whisks me away to steal kisses in the newly painted salon corridor, I realize I would have missed out on all this joy if I’d kept my eyes on money instead of love.

  I deserve this.

  I, Chandra Renae Howard, deserve to be treated properly, to be loved properly.

  And I will be.

  Forever.

  THE END

  Hello! Thank you for coming along on this journey with me. If you enjoyed this story, I would be honored if you would let others know by writing a review on Amazon. Your recommendation will help other fans of interracial romance find my work and it would mean the world to me. Thank you for your support!

  Love, Nia

  A Word From The Author

  As a special thank you for buying this e-book, I want to send you another one completely free of charge! You can get it by clicking below.

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  I would love to hear from you at [email protected]. You can also follow me on IG: Nia Arthurs @nia_bks and Twitter: @niaarthurs

  Also by Nia Arthurs

  The Taming Series

  Taming Mr. Jerkface

  Taming Mr. Charming

  Taming Mr. Know-it-all

  Taming Mr. Darcy

  The Richards Books

  Call Me Torn

  Call Me Broken

  Call Me Lost

  Standalones

  Chasing Daniel

  The Switch

  Axle’s Secret

  The Good Brother

  Something New

  Love In Many Shades Series

  Cece & David

  Cece & David 2

  Cece & David 3

  Cece & David 4

  Lovesick Series

  Play

  Dance

  Trust

  Swipe on for a sneak peek of my upcoming novel featuring Teale and Zania.

  Enjoy!

  Chapter 1

  Zania

  This is why people drink.

  I place the delicate champagne flute to my lips. Sip my Absolut Vodka and strawberry ice tea.

  It slides down my throat.

  Warm and smooth.

  Delicious.

  If I’d known liquor could taste this good, I would have indulged more. Instead, I spent high school and college on the fringes of the ‘cool’ cliques, never quite understanding the collective obsession with booze and its popularity at every social gathering.

  My fingers wrap tightly around the delicate stem of the glass. Rasp against the raised design burned into the material. It’s smooth, artful, luxurious.

  This entire ballroom is luxurious. Thick red carpet. White-clothed tables. Giant stage with five-thousand dollar glass decorations.

  Amateur pianist.

  Whoever is behind those keys needs to take several seats.

  I cringe as I hear another flat note. The subpar music kills the vibe. Collides with the ethereal beauty of the ice sculptures mounted on stands, the sliding glass door leading to a wide balcony, the fluttering white curtains in front of the mammoth-sized windows.

  Another bad note.

  My soul shrivels.

  The musician sucks.

  Not that anyone cares. The patrons of this ice sculpture charity ball—why ice sculpture of all things?—are too busy comparing their latest six-figure purchases and flirting with Teale Landry.

  Not that they’re not all flirting.

  It just feels that way to me.

  Every time my eyes veer to Teale, he’s got a crowd of debutants in evening gowns pawing at his chest.

  And he’s not complaining.

  A high-pitched giggle clashes with the pianist’s crescendo. It dri
lls into my ears. Attacks my senses like nails on a chalkboard.

  I’m forced to look at Teale again.

  There’s a woman next to—correction—draped over him. She’s tall. Pretty. Long, voluminous blonde hair glistens. A stunning dress wraps around her willowy figure.

  Teale whispers something that makes her laugh again. She throws her head back, releasing a gaudy cackle.

  I’m pretty sure she wants the room to notice.

  I’m pretty sure the joke’s not that funny.

  Teale’s answering smile glimmers in his blue eyes. Being the center of female adoration suits him as perfectly as his lean body suits that tailored tux.

  He raises a hand. Runs it through his messy, dirty blond hair. Unlike the other guys in the room who have gelled and moussed their hair to perfection, Teale looks like he rolled out of bed, pulled on a pressed suit and wandered here.

  And it works for him.

  A lot.

  That effortless don’t-give-a-crap aura mixed with the tuxedo effect can drive a woman crazy.

  I know.

  It’s driving me crazy.

  Not that I plan on joining the ranks of his desperate fan girls tonight.

  No, my body might be into Teale.

  But my head? That part is screwed on right.

  Sure, he’s handsome. Ripped. Charismatic. Funny. Intelligent.

  And… where was I again?

  Oh right.

  Teale might be all those things, but he’s bad news.

  A player to the max.

  And me?

  I’m the good girl. Raised by my sixty-three-year-old Baptist grandma.

  I know a temptation when I see one and Teale is hot as hell. Sexy as sin. A waiting ticket to the gates of heaven followed by a one-way trip down under.

  His eyes lift from the Barbie on his arm.

  Sweep the room.

  Land on me.

  I stiffen, my fingers clawing around my drink.

  His pink lips curl up, slanting me that trademarked Teale smirk.

  I force myself to look away. Force my feet to walk. Grandma always said to run like Joseph when faced with temptation. So I’m booking it while I still have the good sense to keep my distance.

 

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