An All Night Man

by Brenda Jackson

  Rissa looked over at Sloan who by now was standing up at his table talking to an Asian girl. She was giggling and carrying on, hanging on to Sloan's every word.

  “I want you to go over there right now and get your man, because if he takes Suzi Wong onto the dance floor and asks for her number, I'm going to cut my fucking wrist.”

  Jai and Rissa laughed and hugged before Jai stood up, pulled her shirt down over her tummy, and headed toward Sloan's table. The Asian girl wasn't bad-looking at all. As a matter of fact she was tall and equally as gorgeous as Russell Simmons's wife. Jai was starting to feel a tad inferior, but halfway over to Sloan's table,

  Snoop Doggy Dog's “Beautiful” came on and made Jai feel like she was just as lovely as one of the Brazilian women in the video. That song coming on, the song they first danced to, was a sign that she was doing the right thing. Out of all the songs that the DJ could have played he randomly chose that one. It had to be a sign. Jai picked up her pace and strutted over to Sloan's table like a peacock.

  “I think they're playing our song,” Jai said as she held her hand out to Sloan, separating him and the Asian girl. As her hand hung in midair for what seemed like forever, the consequences of her action ran through Jai's mind. One of two things was about to happen. Sloan was going to humiliate her by declining her invitation to dance and send her back over to her place at the bar with Rissa or he would grab her hand and walk over to the dance floor with her. Fortunately it was the latter of the two.

  When Sloan reached for Jai's hand and grabbed it, she closed her eyes and thanked God. As far as Jai and Sloan were concerned, they were the only two people in Cream. Sloan led the way to the center of the dance floor, where it had all began.

  “Can we start over?” Jai asked Sloan.

  “We can't start over, but we can pick up where we left off and try to fix things,” Sloan said.

  “I'm game for that.”

  “I missed you,” both Jai and Sloan said at the same time.

  “We're different, Jai. You take cream in your coffee and I take mine black. And although we don't see our differences as a distraction to one another, the rest of the world does and we have to learn how to deal with it together.”

  “Point taken,” Jai smiled.

  “We can do this, baby. Love does conquer all.” Sloan gave Jai a delicious makeup kiss. “Do you have plans for this weekend?”

  “No, why?” Jai asked.

  “My mom makes one hell of a pasta and tomato sauce,” Sloan said, pulling Jai close to him.

  “Oh, yeah?” Jai said, smiling and honored to be receiving an invitation to go to Columbus to finally meet Sloan's parents.

  “Yeah. And with dessert she makes this Italian bean coffee that's to die for. She makes her own special cream, too. You'll love it,” Sloan said, planting a long hard kiss on Jai's lips.

  Jai placed her head on Sloan's chest and exhaled.

  Sloan looked up at the DJ booth and gave the DJ a thumb up as he lipped the words “thank you.” The DJ, in return, gave Sloan a thumb up and lipped the words “thank you” as he held up the twenty dollar bill Sloan had slipped him as persuasion to play his and Jai's song.

  NEVER SATISFIED

  .

  Kayla Perrin

  PROLOGUE

  .

  Tell me your fantasy.”

  Amani Milford shivered at the husky voice, shivered with anticipation as she imagined what would come next. Would it be like she had always dreamed with Aaron? Wild and hot and utterly exciting? Or would he take his time with her, torture her with teasing until she begged him to take her?

  She swallowed. Licked her lips. “My fantasy?”

  “Whatever you want, I'll do. Anything.”

  Anything. A nervous breath oozed out of her. Could she be so brazen, tell him exactly what was on her mind?

  She forged ahead, not sure where she got her nerve. “I want you to tie me to the bed. With my stockings, once you take them off me.”

  Reaching for the hem of her skirt, she shimmied out of it, letting the black cotton fall to the carpeted floor. As Aaron's eyes grew wide with appreciation, she couldn't help feeling a surge of power. In fact, she felt so powerful that she pirouetted, giving him a view of her butt, fully exposed as she was wearing only a thong.

  “Oh, baby,” he growled. “Come here.”

  Amani slowly strutted toward him. From his seat on the bed, he reached for her, peeling first one stocking down her leg, then the other. With both nylons secured in one hand, he wrapped the other around her waist and pulled her down onto him. Then he rolled them both over so that he pinned her body beneath his while keeping his weight off of her. Amani gasped softly at the delicious force.

  “Do you have any idea what I want to do to you?” he whispered.

  “Probably exactly what I want to do to you.”

  Aaron nibbled on her ear before pulling away from her. He moved forward on the bed, taking one of her arms with him. Wrapping the stocking around her wrist, he secured it to the bed head.

  “Tighter,” Amani told him. She sighed as he yanked harder on the stocking.

  Aaron tied her other hand to the bed, then reached for her face. His fingers gently caressed her skin, yet set her body on fire. “Now what? I want to do everything the way you want me to.”

  “Take my blouse off. Don't be gentle.”

  He ripped at her silk blouse. Buttons went flying. “And now?”

  “Undo my bra. Touch my breasts.”

  He did, and Amani thought she would go insane with desire. Her entire body throbbed, and she knew she would climax soon. But she didn't want to. Not yet.

  “Stop,” she managed on a ragged moan.

  Instantly, Aaron stopped. But his lust-filled eyes said he didn't want to.

  “Take off your clothes,” Amani told him.

  Moving backward onto his knees, he reached for his shirt. Making her suffer, he took his time undoing every button, allowing her only small glimpses of his magnificent chest before he fully stripped out of it and dropped it onto the floor. Amani held her breath as he reached for the belt. But he carried on with his exquisite torture, slowly unhooking it and sliding it out of his pants.

  Amani licked her lips. “Hurry,” she whispered.

  “Huh?”

  The flame burning inside her instantly went out, as surely as if someone had dumped a bucket of water on it.

  That was not Aaron's voice!

  Awful awareness filled her. The kind that would leave her horribly embarrassed when she opened her eyes and faced the real world.

  “Amani!” That was Suzette's voice, an urgent whisper.

  Amani didn't want to, but she slowly opened her eyes. Then wanted to die when she saw the curious smile dancing on her best friend's face.

  Oh, God.

  “What's up with you?” Suzette asked. She leaned across the aisle between the row of desks to be closer to Amani. “Your eyes were closed pretty tight, and you were making these strange little sounds. Like little moans.”

  “Stop lying.” Wanting to bury her head in a dark hole, Amani sat up straight and tried to play it cool. She picked up her pen and focused on her notebook and the task Mr. Hayes had given them—to write a short story about one of the happiest days of their lives. But her body still throbbed, reminding her exactly where her thoughts had just been,

  “I'm not lying,” Suzette protested. “If you had only seen your face. . . . C'mon, tell me what you were thinking about?”

  “1 was thinking about the assignment,” Amani replied quickly. Perhaps too quickly.

  “Then why were you moaning?”

  Amani cut her eyes at her friend. “I'm not feeling very well, okay?”

  Suzette's grin morphed into a frown, “Oh, Okay. I thought for sure it was something more.”

  “Well, you thought wrong.”

  Amani felt a little guilty for lying to her best friend, but she really didn't have any choice. Because there was no way she could admit t
he truth about what she'd really been thinking.

  She would never admit that she had been caught up in an illicit fantasy starring their senior year English teacher, Mr. Aaron Hayes.

  1

  .

  Oh, my God,” Amani uttered a moment after the door chimes sounded in Coffee, Tea & Mail.

  Suzette Gordon, Amani's longtime best friend and now business partner, looked up at her from the cappuccino machine and asked, “What?”

  “Earl,” Amani whispered.

  “Ah,” Suzette crooned as she looked toward the door. "Earl.”

  Amani spun around, resting her butt against the counter as she scowled at her friend.

  “What?” Suzette asked in a mock-innocent tone.

  “Don't say his name like that. Like I'm supposed to get all warm and fuzzy inside because he's here.”

  Suzette held up a hand as if to say Amani didn't have to go on. “I know, I know. It's over with Earl. But hey, at least it lasted a couple months.”

  Amani resisted the urge to look over her shoulder. “Is he heading toward me? I know he's heading toward me.”

  “You know he's not coming for me, sugar. You have about three seconds to head to the bathroom. Oops, too late.”

  “Amani.”

  Amani squeezed her eyes shut. Then accepted her fate. After all, she couldn't avoid the man forever.

  Turning around and grabbing the dishrag on the counter in one fluid movement, Amani planted a smile on her face. “Earl.” He was barely an inch taller than she was, and it was always disappointing that she didn't have to look up into his dark eyes. “What a surprise.”

  “Hey.”

  “Hey, yourself.” She wiped the dishrag over the steel counter- top, even though the surface was spotless.

  “Haven't heard from you,” he said.

  “Um. I know. I've been really, really busy.” Amani made her way down the counter, wiping with such flair her mother would have been proud.

  Following her from the opposite side of the counter, Earl's expression said he didn't believe her. Not that she blamed him. She hadn't returned his calls since she had seen him two weeks ago. Rather, since she had snuck out of his bed while he'd been sleeping.

  “So busy that you couldn't return my calls?”

  Earl was exactly the reason Amani didn't like to date. What had happened to the days when you could date a guy, no strings attached? Amani had liked Earl. She had been enjoying their companionship. It was certainly a plus not having to wonder who you'd spend a Saturday night with, or if you'd be able to find someone with whom you could go to the movies. Her relationship with Earl had gone from A to B to C, so after a night of drinking and dancing at a downtown club, they had taken the next step. Considering it had been at least eight months since Amani's last sexual encounter, she had been looking forward to it. She hadn't been looking forward to a proclamation of love.

  "I love you. “Earl had uttered the words after he had orgasmed. Had it been during, she would have written the words off as meaningless sex talk. But he'd said the words with a clear head, then kissed her with such passion there was no mistaking their sincerity. She had crept out of his bed two hours later.

  He loved her. How ridiculous was that? Good grief. He'd only known her a couple of months.

  Not that she could rule that sort of thing out completely. Suzette swore by love at first sight and was happily married now for just over four years. But Amani didn't feel the same way about Earl. In fact, any feelings she'd had for him had fizzled into nothing. The problem was, Earl didn't quite get the hint that she was no longer interested.

  “You know we've extended the hours here,” Amani pointed out. “I've had to train a couple new workers, which can really exhaust a person.”

  “If anyone needs a break, it's you,” Earl told her.

  “I know. But when you're a small business owner, it's not so easy to take one.”

  Earl nodded, but his expression said he didn't accept her words. “What about this Friday?” he pressed. “Maybe dinner, then a show?”

  Earl was attractive, sweet, but Amani knew they didn't have a future—much to Suzette's chagrin, considering she had set them up. And much to her own. She'd had hope that Earl would be the man for her, that they could ride off into the sunset together—which, in Toronto, meant buying a waterfront condo or perhaps an overpriced house in the Beaches. However, after their one intimate night together, Amani had realized that he was not an all night man.

  Not a man she wanted to wake up with in the morning.

  Maybe she was too picky. Suzette had said as much. Because since her divorce four years earlier—just months after Suzette's grand wedding—she hadn't met a man with whom she felt comfortable waking up beside. Which had led to her taking the walk of shame in the middle of the night more times than she cared to admit.

  And even when she'd been married to Carl, she had hated the thought of curling up next to him until the morning came. Which was the first clue that their marriage wouldn't last. Maybe she had suspected what a louse he was from the beginning. No, she had more than suspected, but had married Carl anyway to make her family happy.

  That was water under the bridge, as the saying went. She had been there, done that, had the T-shirt to prove it, and didn't particularly want to go there again. She was happy being single. Still, she certainly didn't want to spend the rest of her life alone. The problem was, no one had really thrilled her since she'd been on the market again, and settling would be much worse than being single forever. It wasn't that she was hung up on her ex—she was totally over that cheating bastard—she just hadn't clicked with anyone else.

  “I've already called about the tickets,” Earl went on.

  Inwardly, Amani grimaced. She could avoid Earl every time he called or came in, but it was pointless. The truth was the best option.

  She plopped the dishrag on the counter and fully faced him. “Earl, I just don't think . . .” She blew out a deep, unsatisfying breath. “If I'm completely honest with myself, I guess I have been avoiding you. It's not you,” she quickly told him when she saw the look of disappointment in his eyes. “I did some thinking, some soul-searching"—Earl was into soul-searching—“and I realized that I'm at a point in my life where I'm not ready for a relationship.”

  Earl shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “I see.”

  “I'm sorry,” she said lamely.

  “Is this because of your ex? Because you're afraid to trust again?”

  Earl was a counselor at a home for troubled teens. He was used to talking feelings. Amani was not. Maybe that was why Carl had taken to talking his feelings in practically every singles chat room on the Internet.

  “Maybe,” Amani said softly. “I guess that's something I need to work on before I attempt to have any type of relationship. My mother, God rest her soul, always used to say I had issues with trust. I guess because of my father.”

  Earl waited a beat before asking, “What about your cousin's wedding? Are we still on for that?”

  Had he heard anything she'd just said? “I'm not going,” she fibbed.

  “Oh.” Earl's tone was laced with disappointment. “I hope you're not backing out because you're afraid of seeing your ex. Because I'm perfectly willing to be your date.”

  Suzette, who had disappeared when Amani and Earl had started talking, now approached with a worried expression on her face. “Amani, the customer at cubicle one needs to speak with you right away. Some kind of problem with the computer I can't figure out.”

  “Oh." Thank you, Suzette. To Earl, she said, “I appreciate you coming by, but I've got to run. Duty calls,” she added lamely.

  “Call me if you change your mind about the wedding.”

  “Sure thing,” Amani said, but she had no intention of ever calling Earl again.

  Even if it meant she had to go to her cousin's wedding alone— something she didn't want to do because Carl was going to be there with his new wife, the one he'd married just h
ours after signing the divorce papers to end their marriage. Of course, Carl had been screwing Karen while he'd still been Amani's husband. It had been one ugly mess, and thankfully Amani hadn't seen him in years. It hadn't been her cousin's idea to invite her ex-husband to the wedding, but Rachel's fiancé's. Rohan worked with Carl on the police force.

  Karen also worked on the police force. That's where she and Carl had met. It still irked Amani that Karen used to smile to her face while having sex with her husband behind her back.

  She really, really didn't want to see either of them. Especially not at an event like a wedding. Maybe a funeral, with either one of them in the casket, she thought wickedly.

  Oh, get over it, she told herself. Then reminded herself she was over it. And she was. But there was also merit to the saying that the best revenge was living well. If she went to the wedding with a date, she would appear to be living well, and Carl would be forced to swallow his hurtful words that she'd never find another man to marry her.

  Feeling suddenly desperate over the prospect of not having a date for Rachel's nuptials, Amani looked back at the counter before she reached the first cubicle. Earl was still staring at her. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad thing if he accompanied her to the wedding. As long as she laid out the ground rules ahead of time so there were no misunderstandings.

  And found a pair of shoes with an inch or lower heel.

  Earl's lips curled into a smile, and Amani quickly averted her gaze.

  No, there was no way she could go to Rachel's wedding with him. The man was in love with her. She wasn't in love with him.

  Another one bites the dust , she thought wryly, then plastered a grin on her face as she prepared to deal with the customer.

  2

  .

  Finally, a moment to ourselves,” Suzette proclaimed in a dramatic tone as she and Amani took a seat at a small table near the back of the cafe. “Man, I thought this place would never slow down.”

  The casual observer might look at Amani and Suzette and wonder what they had in common. Amani wore her black hair in a conservatively short do. Suzette had long dreadlocks that she routinely dyed blonde. Amani had a single piercing in each ear. Suzette had several in each ear, one through her eyebrow, one in her nose, and one in her tongue. But despite their mismatched outward appearances, they had a lot in common. They both enjoyed movies and books, fine wine, and karaoke. At any social event, they were the last to leave. They didn't agree on everything, and could argue like sisters, but they loved each other to death and in their own way kept each other sane.