An Affair Across Times Square

by Rachell Nicole

  Damn it.

  If she could just get her hand to stop trembling long enough to apply her makeup, she’d be fine. She glanced at the clock: 6:45. She had to get moving. She finished her makeup and straightened her hair, leaving it loose around her shoulders. She chose two simple dangling diamonds and a matching necklace with a small pendant to go with the dress. Seeing herself in the mirror made her chuckle. She hadn’t looked this good for a date in years. She just hadn’t bothered.

  She moved into the living room area of the suite and put her heels on. Black, strappy, and tall. Just the way she liked her heels. And her men. She forced herself not to bite her lip, made a conscious effort to take a deep breath. To try to stop the shaking. You can do this. She took another deep breath and yelped at a knock on the door. She froze. Was he here? She could not open that door and let him in. No way. He said through the window. Oh, shit.

  “Lay, it’s me. Open up.”

  She almost sank to the floor in relief. Eddie. Thank God. Ten minutes didn’t give her a lot of time to kill him.

  She opened the door and glared at him. He carried two covered trays, and the expression on his face darted from contrite to amazed. He whistled.

  “Oooh, girl, you pulled out the little black dress.”

  “Oh, shut it. And get in here before I get your blood on the carpet.”

  A slow smile spread on his face as he came in. “Be right back. Stay there.”

  She closed the door. Stay there? Fat chance. She followed him into the living room area but stopped as he disappeared behind the screen at the end of the room. She still wasn’t sure she wanted to see back there yet. She had a few more minutes before seven. A few more minutes to agonize over everything. Eddie reemerged, that smug smile still on his face. He moved toward her and bent down to kiss her on the top of the head.

  “I’m proud of you, Lay. Have a good night.”

  She wrapped her arms around him, feeling a tear escape. She took a shaky breath, and he rubbed her back.

  “I can take it all away if you want.”

  She shook her head against his chest. Eddie was the only one who ever got to see her like this. And she’d long ago stopped feeling ashamed or embarrassed by letting him see all her insecurities and brokenness.

  “Good. Then straighten that spine, put a smile on your face, and go work your magic, baby girl.” He gave her one last squeeze and then turned her toward the screen and the window and pushed her away from him. Like a mother bird shoving her baby out of the nest. But Mama Bird always hovered, feeding the chick. Protecting it. She knew Eddie would do the same. A few seconds later, the lights went out, and she heard the door shut behind him. She could see the flickering light of a candle bouncing off the white curtains.

  She gulped.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Tyler smoothed his fingers across the white cloth on the table he’d put in his office. He stared across the street. He looked down at his watch: 6:58. If she didn’t open the curtain by seven, he’d probably sit there staring for hours, hoping she was running late or would change her mind. He looked around. He’d turned the place upside down. Moved his desk and rolling chair out of the way, brought in a small table and used one of his two leather chairs to sit in.

  A single yellow rose with a bit of lavender sat on the table. Just like on the one set up in her room. A single white taper candle flickered beside the flowers, providing ambience but no real light. The glow from the square sufficed. Not the most intimate date in the world, but he hoped this qualified as a big enough gesture for her to realize they had more than some random fling and it could be special, because she was special.

  His breath stilled in his lungs as he watched the curtain open one agonizingly slow inch at a time. He couldn’t breathe as he looked at Ms. Marietta. She stood beside the table, a shiny black halter top dress setting off her light mocha skin and showing him a beautiful glimpse of her cleavage. The long dress almost reached her ankles but had a high slit on the left side, revealing a delicious expanse of thigh. Black strappy heels and sparkling jewelry completed her attire. He forced a breath through his lungs.

  She could have worn a paper sack, and he would still be delirious. But to know that she had taken the time to dress up for him warmed him, made his chest tight. She stared at him like that shy girl he’d seen in the window before. He lifted his hand in a small wave, and she smiled. She sat down at the table, shaking her head. She gazed at him in wonder, and he found himself soaking it in. Found himself wanting to put that look there more often.

  She pushed the button on the waiting telephone, and he turned on his speakerphone as it rang.

  “I see you got my note,” he said.

  Her answering laugh warmed him even more. “Yes, I did.”

  Was she going to bring it up, tell him of the dangers when they met like this?

  “So…stalker-like tendencies, huh? That a way to win a girl over? I must have missed that in Relationships 101.” Her voice came out light, teasing.

  He laughed at her. “Well, I don’t know what hack of a school you went to, but this was one of our first lessons. I mean, really, what did they teach you? To spend hours getting to know someone before you messed around? Write poetry and send flirty looks back and forth instead of following someone home at night without them knowing? God, the lessons you must now unlearn…terrible. You poor thing.”

  She smiled and then descended into a fit of adorable giggles. She covered her mouth and nose with her long fingers as she continued. When she stopped, she shook her head again. As if she couldn’t believe he’d just said such nonsense.

  “I can see that your sense of humor is a bit dark,” she said.

  “As is yours if you take such delight in my sarcasm and wit.” Ha, he’d found something.

  So far, so good.

  “I can’t argue with that one.” She lifted the domes from the platters before her.

  “I didn’t know what you’d like, so I picked a few things out for us to try.” He lifted the tops on his own trays. He’d had a helpful employee give him some plates of the same food he’d ordered for her. A steak, medium rare with a side of mashed potatoes and chives. The savory scent of beef tickled his nose and made his stomach growl. A vegetarian pasta dish in case she didn’t eat meat. And salmon over rice pilaf if she wanted fish. He’d picked a pretty decent spread. He would eat any of the three dishes, depending on his mood.

  “Wow. You know I’m never going to be able to eat all of that. Or choose between these. They all look amazing. Thomas is a great cook.”

  “Good to hear it. So you’re on a first-name basis with the chef, huh?”

  Her face tightened, and her shoulders went up a full inch. Too personal, apparently. Which nixed his need to ask about the park earlier. He wanted to know about her friend and why she hadn’t stopped and introduced him. He knew she’d seen him.

  “I, uh… Yes. I am.”

  She didn’t offer more explanation, and she hadn’t sounded willing to give him even that much information. Damn. This might be harder than he thought, but as his mother had always told him, nothing in life worth having was easy. And he had deemed Ms. Marietta definitely worth having.

  “That’s cool.” He worked at keeping his voice casual, at not scaring her away. He was still astonished she had shown in the first place. “I think I’m going to start with the steak. I think I’ll eat a bit of everything. I enjoy variety.” He deepened his voice. She seemed to be more comfortable with blatant innuendo and sexuality than with normal conversation, so he would keep it where she felt at ease. For now.

  “Do you?”

  She took the bait, her shoulders relaxed, and a coy smile tugged the edge of her lips.

  “I do.” He picked up his knife and fork and cut off a piece of steak. “What are you going to try first?”

  “I think I’ve got to go with the pasta. That Alfredo sauce is to die for.”

  He popped the piece of steak into his mouth and chewed. It tasted pret
ty amazing too. She moved the platter with the noodles closer to her and began twirling them onto her fork. Her movements mesmerized him. So delicate and smooth.

  “So…did that blond guy see me the other day?”

  Lie, his brain told him. The truth might make her run off again. But the thought of lying to her made the steak taste like ash in his mouth. He couldn’t do it.

  She began eating her pasta, and her eyes closed in appreciation. He’d have to try that next. He pushed away the steak and grabbed for the noodles.

  “I’m not sure. He hasn’t said anything. And even if he did see you, you were just sitting in a robe in a hotel room across the street. Simple as that. He’d have no way of knowing what was really going on.”

  The mix of smells from the food reminded him he hadn’t eaten all day. He’d been too busy or too nervous to even attempt it. And now his stomach growled at him to eat.

  “Great. Just fucking fabulous.” The anger in her voice was palpable. The heat in her words wrapped around him, starting a fire in his bloodstream.

  “Try not to worry about it. He’s a prick anyway.”

  Her eyes widened, and he pushed his lips into a straight line. Maybe that had been a bit too honest.

  But then she started to laugh.

  “Most people try to censor themselves around me. I’m glad that you don’t. Nor did you have any reaction whatsoever to my saying ‘fuck.’ I usually get at least an eyebrow raise at that one. Or a disapproving look. ‘Profanity is unacceptable for a lady.’” Her voice rose an octave, becoming shrill as she quoted someone. Probably some stupid-ass propriety book.

  “Well, what the fuck is wrong with people? I quite fucking enjoy the word. And its many uses in our language. In fact, I find the diversity of the word unparalleled by any other. It can be used as a verb. ‘He fucked her.’ As a noun—‘you fuck.’ As an adjective modifier—‘it wasn’t fucking ready.’ As—”

  She was laughing too hard for him to continue. “Yes, I understand the sheer versatility of the word. I just didn’t know you had such a common appreciation.” She poured herself a glass of wine, still beaming at him. God, he wanted to keep making her laugh.

  She sipped the white wine. “This is nice. Thanks. Good choice of wine.”

  She didn’t think the evening was nice, or the gesture. Just the wine. The thought deflated him some, but he refused to give up without a fight.

  “So…no glasses tonight?”

  “Contacts. I only wear the glasses…for work,” she said. At least she’d given him that much information. So she worked in New York. He wanted to ask what she did, but that would be too much.

  He nodded. “Fair enough. Baseball or basketball?” He would keep things light and comfortable if it killed him. As long as she kept talking to him, laughing with him.

  “Neither. Surfing.”

  New Yorkers didn’t surf. So she worked in New York but didn’t live there. Alone in the Big Apple. Or not so alone, since she’d been with that guy in the park. They’d been so comfortable together. Again he felt the urge to ask her, but he didn’t dare. What if the guy did happen to be more than a friend? He didn’t know if he could live with himself if he found out she had someone else. Because he would still have dinner with her. Still want to seduce her. Though he would make himself leave her alone. The prospect left a hole in his gut.

  “To watch or to do?” he said instead, focusing on her passion for surfing.

  “Both.”

  Okay, she was abnormal. He had never in his life met a woman with any kind of African American heritage who would get her hair wet all the time. She seemed to be able to read his face. See right through to the thoughts turning inside his head.

  “Bathing caps are a wondrous invention. Though even if I didn’t have one, I’d still surf.”

  The image of her riding a wave in a bright red bikini, the sunset behind her, joy on her face, took him by surprise. It made a beautiful sight. She would look incredible harnessing all that power.

  “How about you?” she said.

  “I’m a pretty die-hard baseball man. Love to go to ball games. And watch them on TV. But nothing beats going to a game.” He continued to eat the noodles. She was right. The steak tasted amazing, but the vegetable Alfredo surpassed even that. He cut a few pieces of beef and piled them atop the noodles. He mixed them together.

  “Hmm. If you say so. I’ve never been to a game.” She watched him add the meat to the noodles and grinned. Then she did the same.

  “What? Oh my God, that’s sacrilegious right there. No way. You have to go to one. Right now. Dinner’s over; let’s go.”

  She laughed again, like he’d hoped she would. But honestly, had there been a game going that very moment, he would have marched across the street and pulled her out of the hotel room to take her. Five-star dress and all. Rules be damned. The woman had never been to a baseball game? Ridiculous.

  “I don’t think there’s a game tonight,” she said.

  “Well, lucky for you. Or we’d be going.”

  She continued to smile as if it were a joke. He’d let her go on thinking that. No need to let her know he was insane. Not just yet, anyway.

  He continued coaxing small talk out of her. Learning bits and pieces of information. Putting them together like a puzzle. And what a beautiful puzzle she made. He learned that in addition to surfing, she loved the ocean in general and hated to be landlocked. She liked vegetables, but not all of them. Yellow roses were great, but she preferred orchids. She also told him that yellow roses symbolized friendship, which he hadn’t known. He made it clear that wasn’t the intended message, though maybe he did want them to be friends. That was what this whole dinner was about—getting to know her better. But she still hadn’t told him her name or anything too substantial about herself.

  Before he knew it, his watch beeped nine o’clock, and he’d eaten almost everything on his plates. Even as it had gotten cold, the food had been delicious. Now it was time for dessert. He heard the knock on her door through the speakerphone and smiled when she jumped a bit. She had been focusing on him, on their conversation.

  “That should be dessert,” he said. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought she rolled her eyes. She stood up and went to the door, though, and came back a few moments later carrying a tray. He pulled a similar one off his desk and placed it on the table.

  “That door of yours locked tonight?”

  “Yes.” He uncovered the dessert.

  “Oh, that looks yummy,” she said, looking straight at him.

  The feel of their dinner changed. Heated. Became less about sharing small talk and more about the searing look in her eyes. She picked up a spoon and pushed it into the chocolate lava cake. Then she grabbed a spoonful of melted chocolate and lifted it to her mouth. She tipped the spoon, opened her mouth, and let the chocolate drip inside. She licked her lips, and just like that, he was rock hard.

  Her pink tongue slid out between her lips and connected with the spoon. She stroked it languorously, taking her time. Licking the spoon up and down until his cock swelled so much he thought he might burst. He’d had every intention of having dinner with her and then going home, but her movements blew that idea all to hell. When she dipped the spoon into her mouth and slipped it out, he feared he’d come right there.

  But then she scooped up more chocolate, and the process started all over again.

  “Mmm. Yup, just as I thought. Delicious.” Her voice was low, husky. And he would have given anything in the world to trade places with that damned spoon. Her eyes sparkled, like hot stars burned inside. At that exact moment, he realized he was in trouble. He was totally and completely at her mercy. And Lord help him, he didn’t give a shit.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Molten chocolate tasted like heaven. She’d never had it like this before. Layla wanted to close her eyes and savor the taste, but she wanted to keep staring at him. Mr. Times Square. Man of surprises. She still couldn’t believe she sat there across from him
on a date. Except in this restaurant, she could take all her clothes off without anyone calling the police.

  “I cannot even begin to describe how hot that is.” The thick sound of his voice filled the hotel living room, making her sheath clench.

  “It’s so yummy,” she moaned. “You should try some.”

  “I’d love to.”

  The way he stretched out the words, staring straight at her, made his meaning clear. He wanted to try some of her. She wouldn’t let them give in to that temptation. It was bad enough what they were doing now; sleeping together for real would make it worse. She’d do what she always did—destroy them both. He knew where she lived, at least temporarily. He could come and get her anytime. But he hadn’t. He respected her rules, which made her admiration for him increase another notch.

  He looked at her, watched her continue to lick and nibble her way through the chocolate bliss. But he didn’t say anything more about it.

  “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

  “No, you haven’t.”

  “Well, you are. Stunning. It’s the only word that even comes close. Or perhaps fucking stunning would be more apt.”

  She laughed, unable to hold on to the sexy siren in the face of his blatant teasing. She let his thick voice wrap around her, reveling in the sound of it. Adoring his light teasing and potty mouth. She loved that he also had such an incredible affinity for the F word.

  “God, I love your laugh.”

  Shit, why’d he have to go and say that? She stilled, unsure what to do next. She didn’t know what to say to that, how to respond to the L word, even in such a context. She wanted to let this happen. Wanted to make herself let go. But when he said things like that, it made her realize he didn’t know her at all. He couldn’t tell how crazy, how screwed up and broken she’d become. She had to get things back on track, here.

  She smiled at him. Then she lifted both hands to the back of her neck and started untying the knot there. She didn’t want to talk anymore.