On-Air Passion

by Lindsay Evans

  “Good.” He backed away and took his box of pastries from the roof of her car and strategically held it low in front of him. “I’ll talk with you later.”

  “Yes. Later.”

  She climbed into her car and started it then sat behind the wheel with her turn signal clicking and watched Ahmed walk away, hypnotized by the promise in the wide-legged roll of his hips. Even in the loose jeans, the muscles and thickness of his butt were obvious, the flesh hard and meaty enough for her to sink her nails into while he—

  A car horn honked just behind her, yanking her mind out of the gutter. A VW Beetle waited impatiently to get into her parking spot. Elle fumbled for the gearshift and pulled out of the parking space, maneuvering onto the street and somehow making it home without getting into an accident. It was a minor miracle.

  Chapter 10

  The social change and activism conference after-party was lit. Strobe lights flashed over the cordoned-off dance floor while Rihanna encouraged the already sweaty dancers to work, work, work, work, work from the bass-thumping speakers. Conversation tripped through the room and everybody was gorgeous. Elle stood back with her glass of champagne while Shaye sashayed around the hotel ballroom in her emerald green dress and high heels.

  Like most people at the party, Shaye was there for networking and coalition building for one of the many social-justice organizations she was a member of. Comfortable in jeans and T-shirt during the day—or at least Shaye’s version of that normally tame outfit—her best friend had now pulled out all the stops in her short and tight designer dress to flirt, seduce and drink the night away. These activists worked hard in the trenches day and night, but when it was time to party, they partied.

  Occasionally drinking from her glass of champagne, Elle enjoyed watching the crowd of intense and intensely beautiful people. Their energy was amazing. She didn’t know where they got it from, the strength to constantly push back against a system fighting to keep people uneducated and unaware.

  At times like these, she had nothing but respectful awe for people like Ahmed and Shaye. They did the work that frightened her. Work she was only happy to support with her checkbook.

  “Oh, excuse me!” A pretty woman in a dress tight enough to rival the one Shaye wore bumped into Elle and spilled the cool champagne over her hand and the hem of her black dress.

  Elle jumped back from the splash of alcohol with a soft cry. At least it wasn’t red wine. “It’s okay,” she said. “It won’t stain.”

  “I’m glad,” the woman said. “It would be a shame to ruin such a pretty Valentino. Those rent-a-couture places don’t take kindly to messedup merchandise.” Then, with that parting shot, the woman dashed off into the crowd, her big behind wiggling for all it was worth in her flame-red dress.

  What the…?

  “Well, that’s a booty for you.” Shaye materialized at Elle’s side.

  “Yeah, and a bitch, too.” She frowned after the woman who’d assumed she didn’t own the vintage designer dress she wore. Then, with a roll of her eyes, she shrugged off the stranger’s comment to focus on what Shaye said about her butt.

  “Do you think it’s all hers?”

  “Yeah,” Shaye said with a snort of laughter. “I’m sure she paid for it somehow.”

  They leaned into each other, giggling.

  On the other side of the room, the big-butt woman was flirting with a massive guy in a sport coat and slacks. He looked like a football player.

  “Are you good?” Shaye looped her arm around Elle’s waist.

  Elle was there as her friend’s plus-one. And Shaye had been a great date so far, making sure Elle enjoyed herself even though she didn’t know many people at the party. But Elle was having fun. The people-watching action was prime.

  “I’m good, girl. Just keep having fun. Don’t worry about me.” But she might as well have told the sun not to shine.

  “When have I ever not worried about you?” Shaye tugged at Elle’s waist. “Come and taste this mini soufflé thing. It’s amazing. I don’t even know how they did it.”

  Shaye dragged Elle over to the table with the apparently miraculous tiny soufflés, her arm still draped around Elle’s waist to prevent her from escaping to another corner. The little appetizers did turn out to be good.

  “Okay, not bad,” Elle conceded after she bit into the second one and nearly moaned out loud at the perfectly light concoction and its both sweet and tart weight on her tongue.

  “Great, because if you disagree with me on this, I’m not sure we could still be friends.” Shaye teased her with a bump of her hip.

  Shaye reached for another soufflé, and Elle narrowed her eyes at her friend, wondering why Shaye was spending time with her when she could be flirting with other passionate activist types.

  “What’s up?” Elle asked and backed out of the way of a slim guy approaching the hors d’oeuvres with single-minded determination. She kept an eye on the dwindling supply of soufflés but most of her attention on Shaye.

  Her friend shrugged. “The usual. There’s a guy…”

  “Of course.” Elle laughed but felt there was more going on. “You playing hard to get?”

  “Please. When have I ever?” Shaye giggled like that was the funniest thing in the world. “He’s not sure.” She leaned in to whisper, “He’s young, so I’m giving him some space to figure out whether or not he wants to dip his wick with me tonight.”

  “There isn’t anything else?”

  Shaye shrugged. “Just massaging a few contacts to see about getting into that policy meeting at the White House next month. They have rumors about actually changing the laws to give us what we need, but you know…”

  Rumors like this usually meant nothing if the people enacting them were still unwilling to treat others fairly. “Yeah, I know.”

  Shaye slid a hand through the ends of her thick curls, sighing. Sometimes she carried such hope for a better world that Elle worried for her. Unlike Elle, who freely embraced her own pessimism, Shaye was the perennial optimist. Because of that, the world was destined to break Shaye’s heart. For a moment, even with the lights of the ballroom chandeliers glittering over her beautiful face and eyes, she looked exhausted.

  “Things will work out, Shaye. Maybe not for the best, at least not right now, but they’ll still be okay.”

  Shaye closed her eyes and looked almost embarrassed that she might have allowed her real feelings to show to anyone else around them, and then she leaned into Elle with the scent of her crisp and sweet perfume floating around them. “Thanks, babe.” Another sigh rippled through her long body.

  Seconds later, Shaye straightened, squeaking with excitement. “Did you know he was here?”

  “Who?” When Shaye didn’t respond, Elle pulled back and turned around to see who she was talking about.

  Of course, it was Ahmed. She bit the inside of her cheek.

  And…wow.

  The day she saw him in person for the first time, Ahmed had just about knocked her over with his gorgeous looks. And he’d only been wearing street clothes—jeans, button-up and a blazer. Now, though, he was positively edible in a sleek dark suit, complete with tie, a pocket square and even a tiepin. Unlike his usual casually refined looks, tonight’s outfit screamed money.

  “I guess you didn’t know,” Shaye said with a pleased sigh.

  “What?”

  “You should see your face right now. You look like you want to run across the room and jump on him.”

  What would he do if she did? Elle idly wondered then nearly stumbled after the thought careened through her brain, leaving chaos in its wake. Since he was in such great shape, she knew he could easily take her weight, would barely rock back on his heels if she climbed him, wound her arms around his neck, her legs—

  “Um…no.”

  “That wasn’t very convincing.” Shaye laughed, fingers fluttering up to cover her mouth. “You should try again. Or, better yet, get over there, and make him notice how sexy you look tonight.�
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  Sexy? Elle looked down at the relatively simple black designer dress that bared her shoulders and hugged her body to the waist, with a peacock’s ruffle low at her hips that enhanced her behind. The dress was serving full Dorothy Dandridge as Carmen Jones—complete with a red flower in her hair—and was the outfit Shaye picked for her to wear tonight. Wait a minute…

  “Did you know he’d be here?”

  “No comment.” But Shaye cackled, giving herself away. She gave her empty plate to a passing waiter and brushed her hands off as if her work was done.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea, Shaye. Ahmed is…” Elle didn’t even know how to finish that sentence.

  After they saw each other at The Baked Good, he’d called her like he said he would, but between her schedule and his, they’d barely managed to exchange anything meaningful. But there had always been the promise of more, and later, and soon.

  “What he is is interested in you. And you’re into him, too. What else is there to say?” Shaye bumped her hip again. “Go over there and talk to him. It can’t hurt.”

  She jerked her chin toward Ahmed, who hadn’t stopped looking mouthwatering in the few minutes Elle had taken her eyes off him.

  Elle raised her eyebrow. “Have you met me?” Shaye knew better than anyone how Elle had fought in foster care against some of the very people who were supposed to take care of her. She knew how those experiences affected how Elle shared her body and with whom.

  “It doesn’t have to be a casual thing, sweetie. It might become more. You never know.”

  Elle shook her head, denying the optimism her friend spouted. But she couldn’t stop staring at Ahmed.

  He stood in a loose circle of other athletic-looking men, hands in the pockets of his well-fitting slacks, casually mouthwatering in a way that should’ve made most of the other men in the room rethink their fashion choices.

  God, she felt so stupidly gone over him.

  “Come on!” Shaye said, apparently at the end of her patience. “If you’re not going to mosey on over there on your own, I might as well drag you.”

  But before Shaye could follow through with the threat, the woman who’d bumped Elle’s arm and spilled champagne over her appeared at Ahmed’s side.

  He didn’t touch the woman, but she touched him, a casual caress of his arm that spoke to an old and intimate relationship. His strong body straightened to tower over the voluptuous woman’s petite frame, and his bright teeth flashed. It looked like she was trying to pick him up, and he was letting her.

  “Oh,” Shaye said. “Maybe we won’t go over there right now.” A look of apology twisted her face.

  “Yeah. That’s probably for the best.” Elle didn’t want to dwell on the disappointment that turned the soufflés to lead in her stomach.

  With determined cheer, Shaye snagged a couple of glasses of champagne and turned them toward the opposite side of the room. “Let’s go see what my night’s would-be boyfriend is up to.”

  “Okay. That sounds like a good idea.” Or at least a distracting one.

  They wove their way through the crowded ballroom with Shaye occasionally pausing to greet this person or that, her smile of welcome never wavering even while she pushed them steadily away from Ahmed and the woman who would most likely take him home for the night.

  Elle swallowed the lump in her throat and pinned on a smile. It took them only a few minutes to find Shaye’s indecisive boy and less time than that for him to make up his mind that he wanted Shaye.

  Elle left her friend to her evening seduction and drifted into a conversation with a popular news anchor who’d just become the subject of the news herself when her husband got caught with a notorious escort.

  The anchorwoman, Treah McConnell, didn’t mention the escort incident and neither did Elle, even though she knew Shaye was dying to know all the behind-the-scenes details.

  “I did hear about your business,” Treah was saying. “My brother could really use your services. He’s hopeless at planning outings for his wife, but he still wants to make her happy.”

  “Wanting to please the person you’re romancing is the first step toward a successful date,” Elle said, taking out one of her business cards. “Pass this on to him. Romance Perfected would be more than happy to help him and his wife create an evening both of them can enjoy.”

  “If having the desire to please your lover was a guarantee of good results, the world would be a much happier place.” A low voice rumbled just behind Elle, sending a shiver of reaction through her body. She turned to face Ahmed.

  “It’s the first step,” she said. “Not the entire journey.”

  He had the nerve to grin down at her as if he wasn’t about to take another woman to bed at the end of the night. He passed his good cheer around, greeting Treah and begging her pardon for interrupting.

  “No pardons necessary,” Treah said with an indulgent look between Elle and Ahmed. “You two probably have a lot to talk about anyway, and I’m never one to stand in the way of romance.”

  “We don’t have a—” romance. But Treah was already stepping away to talk with someone else.

  “Why do you always know the exact wrong to say?” Elle narrowed her eyes at him, allowing her irritation to show.

  “Put your claws back in, kitten. I’m only here to say hello.” The corners of his mouth curved up, and his gaze moved down, devouring her from red flower to black stilettos. “And to tell you how gorgeous you look.”

  Elle wanted to punch him. “Thank you. I think. Won’t your…lady of the evening object to you telling another woman how nice she looks?”

  “Who’s my lady?” He made a show of looking around the room.

  Elle sucked her teeth, although it was mostly in irritation at herself. Now he knew she’d been watching him. “That woman in the red dress who was practically drooling in your crotch.”

  His eyebrows flew up then he laughed. “That’s a very vivid description and also very wrong.” He laughed even more, a masculine rumble of sound that drew more than a few appreciative looks his way. When she didn’t join in on the laughter, his humor trickled away though it didn’t completely stop. “You’re jealous.”

  “Absolutely not,” Elle said. But she’d never been a good liar.

  Without looking, she could feel his disbelief and his strange…affection.

  Elle shifted under his smiling regard. “Stop it. People are looking at us.” What exactly she wanted him to stop doing, she couldn’t say with any certainty. Whatever it was made awareness prickle all over her body. And drew even more stares. Of course, these people watching them probably all listened to his damn radio show.

  “There’s nothing to be jealous of, Elle.” He stepped closer to her, and she smelled a hint of his aftershave, something crisp and citrusy. “You’re the only princess I’m interested in tonight.”

  “And what about non-princesses?” she asked before she could bite her own tongue off.

  He chuckled, another low and sensual sound. “You’re the woman I want right now. I think you know that.”

  Well, she knew he said it. She was naive about certain things, but a man declaring his singular interest while his libido was piqued wasn’t one of them.

  She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her hip. “If that’s true, prove it.”

  Ahmed’s eyes darkened as they slowly moved down her body. “For some reason, you seem intent on getting me locked up on some sort of public indecency charge.”

  Elle clenched her jaw and willed herself not to blush at the blatant reminder of what had happened between them when he walked her to her car a few days before. Her will was apparently weak where he was concerned.

  “That’s not what I’m talking about,” she said finally.

  “Then what do you mean? What other proof do you need to believe that I want you tonight in my bed or anyplace you’ll have me?”

  Elle’s face wasn’t getting back to its normal temperature anytime soon, apparently.
She pressed a hand to her cheek and looked anywhere but at his face, or the open collar of his shirt, or anywhere on his body. Her wandering eyes found Shaye, and her friend gave her the thumbs-up then changed it to the “call me later” sign with her thumb and index finger held near her face like a telephone. She was leaving with her boy toy. Good for her.

  Elle refused to be jealous that Shaye did whatever she wanted and never seemed to second-guess herself. A hand on her waist brought her attention firmly back to Ahmed. He looked worried, a complete reversal of the hungry look he’d worn moments before. “I feel like I’m always apologizing to you,” he said.

  “What…?”

  “I’m apologizing now, at any rate. I don’t want you to feel pressured. I want you, I want to make love to you in any way you’ll let me, but only when and if you’re ready.”

  “I…” She wasn’t ready. Or was she? Everything inside her throbbed an enthusiastic “yes,” but slinking off to sleep with gorgeous men she’d barely known for a month wasn’t her style. She toyed with the diamonds in her ears.

  “Tell you what? Let’s just have a nice time tonight,” Ahmed said softly. “I’ll introduce you to a few colleagues of mine. Maybe get some business thrown your way. No pressure. No sex talk.” His hand hovered near her waist, not touching but not moving away either. It was torture. “What do you say?”

  Business. Yes, she’d come here for business with Shaye. Her partner could swan off with her “boyfriend of the evening,” but Elle still had a job do. She’d only had two motives coming to this party: to be Shaye’s plus-one and to drum up clients for Romance Perfected. With a little over a week to go until Valentine’s Day, this was the perfect time and place to give out her card. But…she wanted to be reckless. She wanted to say yes to Ahmed and let him take her to the nearest bed.

  “Okay.” Elle was very aware of how close Ahmed was to her, aware of the loose circle of his arm near her waist that was an odd sort of corral, turning her where he wanted without actually touching her, a clear indication that he wanted to touch her but didn’t dare.