by K. A. Linde
He volunteered the information for those two but left out an explanation for the woman that was with him. That immediately drew Chyna’s eyes to her. She was Indian with gorgeous dark-caramel skin, thick, long black hair with natural body, and almost unnatural blue eyes. She was exotically beautiful and clothed in an eye-catching red dress. Nitya smiled at them before taking a seat next to Adam.
“No problem at all. Nice to meet you,” Adam said, promptly standing and shaking the two guys’ hands. “I’m Adam, John’s brother. This is my girlfriend, Chyna.”
Chyna just smiled at them. Trey was a medium build guy with short blonde hair, and he was wearing a navy suit. He was everything she expected from a Global employee. In fact, he looked like he had the superiority complex to boot. Or, is it a Napoleonic complex? The guy next him, Darius, was a tall, skinny African American man with a perfect smile that was contagious.
They all filed into the booth. The room was already filling up, and they now had a party of five when she had been expecting just the two of them. She couldn’t help noticing how close John sat next to Nitya when they all sat down.
“So, how do you know each other?” Chyna asked. She couldn’t believe she had even opened her mouth.
“Nitya was at Harvard when I was getting my MBA,” John told Chyna with a smirk.
Nitya rolled her eyes. “Don’t make it sound so amazing,” she said. “I was just getting an art history degree. It wasn’t a big deal.”
“Harvard is a big deal,” Trey said, shaking his head.
“Not to someone who went there,” Darius said, elbowing him in the side with a big full-watt smile.
“Alright, guys,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s not like I’m the MET curator or anything. I still sell shitty paintings every day.”
“They’re not shitty,” John said, his hand touching her arm in a way that Chyna was all too familiar with.
She narrowed her eyes at the movement. Then, he caught her looking at him, so she turned her attention to Adam, who was too busy with the hookah to pay attention.
“Do you…paint?” Chyna asked, breaking the private moment.
“Some, but I’m shit. And, don’t you say otherwise,” she said, pointing at John. “I work for a small art gallery as a viewer doing appraisals for their collection.”
“That’s pretty cool actually,” Chyna said disappointed. That was actually really cool.
She hated these moments. She didn’t regret not going to college because she got more partying done in New York, and she didn’t have to deal with the whole school aspect. But, she had never had anything she could really call hers like this Nitya chick.
“And, your paintings aren’t shit. I’ve seen the inside of your studio,” John said with a smirk.
Nitya giggled and leaned into him like they were sharing a private joke. When, in fact, their joke wasn’t all that private. It was obvious what he was saying.
Trey, obviously not picking up on what John was saying, spoke up. “Yeah, I agree. I’ve seen some of your work. I’d love to see your studio though.”
Was this guy that dense? The only one seeing inside her studio was fucking her, and Trey certainly wasn’t.
The subject switched to business, and Chyna pulled back from the conversation. She didn’t want to be involved, and she didn’t want to have to think. Adam ordered her another drink, and the table got a round of tequila shots. She veered away from the alcohol. She’d had too good of a time last night, and she didn’t want to make herself look worse by imbibing way more than she could handle.
Instead of taking the shot, she checked her phone to see if Frederick had ever responded to her text messages. Just when she was about to get up to give him a call, he texted back.
Dallas called. Sorry, chicky.
Chyna groaned, throwing her phone back into her purse. She took a drag on the hookah and could feel a slight buzz from both the alcohol and tobacco already. The sweet aroma was deceiving because it was already making her tingly in a way that alcohol never did anymore. It was nice.
“Are you still meeting up with Frederick?” Adam asked, standing. He was completely confident on his feet.
Had he even been drinking that much? Chyna hadn’t really been paying that much attention.
“He cancelled,” she told him, resting her head back against the cushion.
Adam bent down and kissed her forehead. “Maybe you should take it easy.”
“I’m fine!” she said defensively, sitting up straight. She hadn’t had that much after all. “Will you get another hookah while you’re up?”
Adam sighed with a nod. “Anyone else need anything?”
Trey and Darius nodded. “We’ll come with you.” The three guys walked away to get more drinks for the table.
“Ah! Two wonderful, beautiful women,” John said, his speech showing the signs of alcohol. He smiled that devious smile in Chyna’s direction and crawled over Nitya to sit in between the two women.
“John! Watch it!” Nitya cried as he caught her leg when he scooted across her.
“Come here,” he said, beckoning Nitya with his finger.
She glanced over at Chyna and then moved closer to him. He threw his arm across her shoulders and kissed her temple. Chyna watched him whisper something into her ear, and Nitya giggled, her eyes flickering to Chyna again.
Despite everything, her stomach was clenching in anger and frustration. This was a fucking ridiculous display and she wanted it to stop. She wasn’t thinking coherently. She knew that he’d had his hands on her last night and now they were running up and down this bitch. It hadn’t been right…even if they had just been dancing, but come on!
“Are you sure?” Nitya asked. John nodded and trailed his finger across her bottom lip where she was biting it. Nitya sighed pleasantly before turning her attention back to Chyna. She crooked her finger at her. Chyna furrowed her eyebrows together, but she was too jealous not to find out what she wanted. How did John have this much pull over her? She couldn’t explain it, but she scooted across the chaise anyway.
Her body pressed almost completely into John. The warmth radiating off of him mixed with her curiosity was intoxicating. Nitya leaned forward, pressing her hand into John’s thigh, as she moved only an inch away from Chyna’s face.
Chyna sat very still, realizing where this was going. This was probably a bad idea. She should move, but her eyes couldn’t even break away from Nitya’s, who was holding Chyna’s gaze with such intensity that it was hard to even think about pulling back to see what John was thinking. She had a damn good guess.
Then, John’s hand landed on the small of her back, and she froze in place. She couldn’t have moved even if she had wanted to. It was like a magnetic force was in the air, holding them all at his touch. Her mind rushed back to the night before, and her eyes fluttered closed. His fingers moved softly against her skin, easing any apprehension she might have had.
She couldn’t even fight it when Nitya’s lips landed on hers. She felt soft and foreign against her own. She tasted like the apple hookah and lip gloss. Nitya wasn’t the first girl Chyna had ever kissed, but this felt different. Her tongue flicked out and trailed across her bottom lip. She heard a groan come from John, and something about the pure sensuality of it made her want to continue. Chyna opened her mouth and allowed Nitya to deepen the kiss, finding her tongue and running along it. Almost as soon as it started, they broke apart.
Chyna’s heart was pounding out of her chest, and she realized how turned on she was. She didn’t even think it was from the kiss either. It was because he was watching, and he was still touching her.
“Fuck,” she whispered, staring into Nitya’s blue eyes.
The girl giggled and ducked her head.
“Fuck is right,” John said in a strained whisper.
At the sound of his voice, Chyna felt like she had woken up from a dream. Her eyes moved from Nitya to John, and she clenched her jaw. What the fuck was she doing? And why was she always
thinking that when she was around him?
She slowly scooted away from them, unable to believe what she had just done. What had possessed her to kiss that girl? She seriously felt like she had been possessed because she wasn’t even that drunk.
John laughed into Nitya’s hair when Chyna moved away from them, and Nitya shared in his humor as he nuzzled her neck. Chyna felt feral at that point. She was fighting her own instincts. On one hand, she wanted to push Nitya out of the way and have her way with John. On the other hand, she wanted to punch him in the face for playing with her. He was teasing her purposely, and he was damn good at it. She was furious, horny, jealous, and frustrated. Goddamn man!
Adam returned a minute later with the other guys, complaining about long lines at the bar and shitty service. Chyna had a hard time paying attention. She had too much else on her mind.
The night dragged on with John keeping up practically the entirety of the conversation. It was like a light had been switched on, and his full charm had taken over. She didn’t know if it was the amount of alcohol in his system or if her kiss with Nitya had something to do with it. Whatever it was, Adam seemed to ease into the change, which made Chyna think that the switch was his normal personality—the guy that Adam had talked about before Global came into his life.
Even she ended up relaxing as he took over. She just wanted to erase whatever had happened while Adam had been gone, accept his brother for the charmer he was, and have a good time. Yet, as much as she wanted them to, the events that had transpired last night and what had just happened with Nitya couldn’t just go away. She needed to tell Adam. She hadn’t really done anything wrong, but he needed to know.
“Ugh,” Nitya cried, swiping at her eyes. “Is it really one-thirty in the morning? I have to work in a couple of hours.”
“Fuck, me, too,” Trey said, elbowing Darius to get out of the booth.
“I have to work, too,” Darius said, sloppily standing and reaching for something to steady himself.
“You guys should take a cab,” Adam told them. He was hardly even tipsy.
How had she not noticed that he wasn’t drinking that much? Or was he was just holding his liquor better than everyone else at the table? She was tipsy, but she didn’t think she was over the edge. She had yet to stand up though.
Nitya stood, wavered, and then crumpled back onto the edge of the booth. She started giggling uncontrollably. “I can’t stand up. Oh my God!”
“Do you need help?” John asked, standing and then immediately sitting back down.
“Yes!” she muttered, her head flopping backward. “I can’t feel my lips.”
Adam shook his head as if he knew that this would happen all along. “Come on. I’ll help you guys to the cab,” he said, scooting around John to help Nitya up. “Chyna, are we taking your town car?”
She nodded, her eyes heavy. It had been a long night, and she couldn’t wait to get back to her apartment, even if she did have to talk to Adam.
“Great. Can you manage here until I get them in the cab?” he asked desperately.
Chyna bit her lip, debating with herself. She really shouldn’t be alone with John at the moment. Probably not a good idea. But, she wasn’t that drunk, so she could handle herself. She nodded again, hoping she appeared confident.
“Great. Hopefully, this won’t take long.”
Adam put an arm around Nitya’s waist and helped her to her feet. Trey and Darius leaned on each other, putting a hand on Adam’s shoulder to get through the darkened hookah lounge. As they exited the enclave, Trey laughed and closed the burgundy curtain to their area. The only light now came from a single covered bulb in the ceiling.
“Chyna,” John whispered into the darkness.
She tensed and tried not to look at him. She knew she should have gone with Adam.
“Chyna,” he whispered again.
She swallowed hard, wishing she had a drink so she had something to do with her hands.
He said her name one more time in the most seductive voice.
She couldn’t help but turn to face him. “Yes?” she murmured.
“Why did you leave last night?”
“You know why I left,” she replied, resting her head backward.
She heard him move closer to her and could feel the heat coming off of him. “Tell me why you left.”
“No,” she said softly, barely audible. “You know why.”
“Chyna,” he said, pushing her dark hair out of her face. “Why did you leave last night?”
She sighed. The feel of his hand touching her face ignited a fire in her. “John, please.”
“Please, what?”
“Don’t make me answer. You know why I left. It was time to go. Simple enough,” she whispered.
“It’s a simple question, and I don’t think that’s the answer.”
She could hear her breath coming out unevenly as she debated on how to answer him. “What do your tattoos say?”
“What?” he asked, clearly surprised by the question.
“You answer, and I will.”
He didn’t even think about it. “Deal,” he said, standing and untucking his shirt.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, glancing anxiously at the curtain.
“Answering your question.” He unbuttoned the top two buttons and pulled his shirt clean over his head.
Chyna just stared. Holy fuck! That body literally killed her. If she had thought she was on fire before, she had been all sorts of wrong.
“This one,” he said, sitting very close to her and pulling up his left bicep, “says ‘to define is to limit.’”
Her hand came up and lightly traced the words on the inside of his arm with her fingertips. “You’ve said that to me before,” she told him.
“You remembered,” he said with a smirk.
“And the other one?” she demanded, ignoring her manners.
He turned and showed her the inscription on his right ribs. “This one says ‘What does it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?’”
“Wow. That’s deep,” she said, resting her hand on his leg. She reached across his body and traced the other tattoo as well.
His breathing hitched as she pressed herself up against him while her fingers trailed across the sensitive skin.
“They’re Oscar Wilde quotes. Just a personal reminder,” he said, lifting his hand and running it through her dark hair.
She moaned softly, her eyes closing as his hand pulled through the long strands. She felt him stiffen beneath her hand that still held on to his leg.
“That feels good,” she mused.
“Your turn,” he told her. With both hands, he pulled back her black hair, making her face him.
Her eyes fluttered open, staring into those gorgeous hazel eyes that were mere inches away from her.
“My turn for what?” she asked, her feeling his body heat at his nearness.
“Why did you leave last night?” he reminded her.
Looking down at his lips, she finally told him, “I thought you were going to kiss me.”
He beamed that gorgeous smile and leaned forward, bridging the distance, and he pressed his lips to hers.
It was like the floodgates were opened. The sexual tension that riddled both of them cracked and then crashed apart. John pushed her backward, his mouth hot and demanding on hers. His body forced her back into the soft-cushioned chaise, covering her. His hands ran down her body.
Chyna gasped against his mouth. In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to dig her hands into his dark hair and have him fuck her, but all sorts of warning signs were blasting through her conscious. This was so fucking wrong. So, so, so fucking wrong.
“Stop,” she said, breaking their lip lock and rolling away from him. Her chest was heaving up and down as she wiped the back of her hand against her mouth. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
John didn’t look much better, except he was still distractingly shirtless. “What
do you mean what was I thinking?”
“You kissed me!”
“You told me to!” he yelled back.
“Fuck that! I said I left last night because I thought you were going to kiss me,” she told him.
“Chyna, I don’t fucking get you.”
“What is there to get? I’m dating your brother, and you have your hands all over me!”
“You don’t even love him.”
Chyna came up short, her mouth hanging open. Who was he to tell her what she felt? How would he even know if it was true? He didn’t know her!
“If you didn’t notice, you’ve been a fucking cock tease all weekend. How many times have you thrown yourself at me since we’ve been around each other? How many times have you eye-fucked me? How many times have you leaned forward, licking your fucking lips and pressing your fucking boobs in my face? Huh?” he asked, grabbing his dress shirt and throwing it back on over his head. “Don’t have an answer? Yeah, let’s not even bring up you fucking kissing Nitya and looking at me like you wanted to have me for dessert. Do you want me to keep going?”
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!” she cried, wishing he was wrong. “I’m dating your brother, and you don’t even care about that. Who does that?”
“Tell me that you don’t want to fuck me.”
“I don’t want to fuck you,” she said, placing her hand on her hip.
“Liar.”
“What part of ‘I’m dating your brother’ don’t you understand?” she demanded, narrowing her eyes.
“The part where you got all wet at my pool. The part where you pressed your ass against my dick when we were dancing. The part where you kissed me back.”
“Shut the fuck up! Gah! Just shut up!” she yelled at him.
“Cock. Tease.”
“Fuck off.”
“That’s all you want to do with me anyway,” he said.
“Don’t flatter yourself, asshole.”
John laughed and shook his head. “I hope you make Adam very happy,” he said, walking over to the curtain and pushing it open.