“I can really make you something.” I walk over to pull open his fridge. There are plastic Tupperware dishes filling the entire space. Minus the area harboring jugs of milk and juice. “You must really like leftovers,” I joke.
“Nah, that’s just what I have to eat.”
I look closer and notice the dates and times labeled on the plastic dishes filled with food.
“Tino, they seriously have you on this strict of a schedule for eating?”
He rolls his shoulders. “It’s just the way it works when you’re a pro fighter.”
“I could never eat like that. I like to eat whenever I feel like eating. And nobody can tell me what to eat.” I grab the back of my thigh close to my butt. “As you can see.”
He stares at me.
His eyes change into the hungry beast he was that night in the limo.
I don’t move. I’m afraid to break the connection we’re speaking through our eyes.
His hand slowly reaches out to me and slides across my backside resting at the largest part of my butt. The part I hate. His throat lets out a low groan, and then he snickers.
“Girl, we shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Are you going to stop this time?” I tilt my head so my hair falls to one side, encouraging his lips to find my neck.
He takes the bait.
My body shivers at the feel of his cool mint Chapstick, and the soft sensation of his full lips.
I press my body into him and grind my hips against his sweatpants. He bends at the knees to lower his position so our bodies can perfectly connect before grinding back. His hands grip the roots of my tangled hair as his chest rises and falls with each deep breath he takes.
Today is our rematch. The one he promised. We’re not in the back of the limo. We’re in his house. A more comfortable place. I lift my leg and wrap it around him so I can pull him closer.
“Bashful, don’t be doing that.” He grabs my thigh. “You don’t understand what your legs do to me.”
“So don’t do this?” I wrap my arms around his neck and jump just enough to wrap my other leg around him. He catches me in his arms like he’d anticipated my intentions, and then he sets me on the counter.
“You are gonna be the death of me,” he lets out a heavy breath.
“I just want to see how far you’ll take it this time,” I giggle before pressing my lips against his.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
H
ell, T, just hold on. I slip my hands under her shirt and cradle her small waist not listening to the better half of me.
A soft moan escapes her lips.
My thumbs reach higher, resting on her ribs.
Shit, she’s a little thing.
I squeeze around her waist as tight as a snake constricting its prey, wanting to touch places I know I shouldn’t. Just a little higher. The bad boy in me justifies. She ain’t gonna stop you.
I hold my breath.
This ain’t right.
Mia slips her tongue deeper into my mouth. I drop my hands to her ass and pull her into me as she rests on the counter.
“Bashful, you ain’t making this easy on me,” I pull my lips away just enough to mumble the words.
She giggles and kisses me deeper.
“Girl, you’re the kind of woman a man craves to tame,” I mumble again.
“Then tame me,” she whispers, and begins to lift her shirt.
Damn, she knows exactly what to say.
I close my eyes and turn my head. Treat her like a lady. The power of a true gentleman begins to settle over me. I haven’t waited this long to screw up things now.
I push her back, keeping my head turned away. “Mia, I need you to fix your shirt.”
“Did I do something wrong?” Her body stiffens.
“Nah, girl, you do everything right. That’s the problem.”
“I don’t understand,” she says, clutching her shirt so that I’m sure I’m safe to look back at her.
Her eyes are hurt. The face of rejection is totally clear in the tiny pout on her lips.
I cup her chin in the palm of my hands so she can’t break eye contact.
“What?” she questions with her lower lip quivering. “I feel so stupid.”
“I want to know how much you like me.”
Her eyes widen as though I’ve just struck the biggest nerve in her body.
“I—” She lets the sentence drop.
“Bashful, I’ve been in love with you since I first laid eyes on you behind your boss’s window,” I tell her as boldly as I can. “I picked you.”
Her eyes soften, giving me a funny expression.
“Out of all the women in the world, I picked you.” I hold her there and don’t let her budge an inch. “I just want to know if you could like me.”
“Tino, this isn’t easy for me.” Her eyes lower. “I’ve never told a guy I love him.”
“I ain’t asking for that.” I take in a deep breath. The ego part of me wants to be the first and last person she says that to, but I’ll settle for liking me right now.
“But, I love you, Tino. I have since the first time I saw you playing with Lucky in the park.” She lifts her eyes. “And even if I know I’m being stupid for being this vulnerable, I can’t sit here and lie to you. I imagine myself being next to you for the rest of my life. I know that sounds like a desperate girl, but it’s true. The image of your face keeps me up at night. I can’t stop thinking how I’m going to handle it when you leave—”
I press my fingers over lips. “Shhh. Don’t say that. I ain’t going anywhere. And this life ain’t enough. I’m gonna need you and the kid forever.”
Her eyes fill with tears.
“Mia, when I came into your work the other day I was looking for something to hide behind. Sully was starting to wonder if the articles were true about me being gay. He was tired of hearing I’m too busy to have a girlfriend.”
She doesn’t say a word.
“I want to show you something.” I step back and run over to grab the laptop off the table. I don’t open it until I’m next to her again.
“No,” she says, pushing it away. “I don’t need you to prove anything to me.”
I smile. “I want you to see this.”
The screen glows, and she begins to scroll the emails.
“Tino, you have over ten-thousand emails on your thread.”
“It’s exhausting.” I scrunch my forehead. “And I got behind since I met you.”
“You’ve replied to all of these?” She shifts her hips on the countertop.
I click out of my email and pull up the screen I want her to see.
She narrows her brows. “I don’t understand.”
I glance at the laptop to make sure I pulled up the right image. Yeah, that’s the one. “This is mine,” I say, pointing to the screen.
“Like the company? Or the website?” she asks.
“All of it.” I place the laptop on the counter. “I started building the business after they made me take a break from fighting for a while when I was about eighteen.”
She glances down to the tattoo with the prison bars.
“I needed something to focus my energy on so I put it into making sparring shorts. It started out hella small, and then the guys at the gym couldn’t go without a pair of my shorts, so I found a company that would mass-produce them. And then I started making clothes to fit guys with bigger legs like me. You can’t imagine how hard it is to get a pair of pants that fits this size of a body.” I pull at the sweats I put on when I crawled out of bed this morning. “I’m so busy with everything and flying everywhere I ain’t even got time to pick a few couches for the house.” I glance around the bare room. “It ain’t as nice as your place. Maybe you could help me with that.”
“Tino, this company is on the Forbes five-hundred list.” She shakes her head.
“Yo, check it out. I just hit the billion-dollar mark last year.” I jut my chin. “Course that money is in the stock of the company
and other things so I ain’t got that much in the bank yet, but I’m building more everyday. This is why I’m so busy. People ain’t willing to trust a black guy from Compton that talks the way I do. They want the guys from Shark Tank. A headliner to make deals with. You don’t understand how hard it’s been gaining trust with the community of buyers. I gotta fly out tomorrow and meet with another client on the women’s clothing line. It ain’t selling like our other stuff.”
She raises her lips in disgust. “Yeah, I’ve tried on at least a dozen pair of your yoga pants. They’re awful. It’s all wrong.”
“Yo, I’m tryin’,” I confess.
“No, I don’t mean that to be rude.” She presses her finger into my chest. “It’s just that you can’t make everything fit a five-foot-seven girl. We’re not all thirty-six-twenty-four-thirty-six. The average woman in today’s world is a size twelve.” She grabs a marker on the side of the fridge that’s attached by a magnet and starts drawing on the whiteboard filled with my to-do list. “I’m thicker through the backside so anything low-rise makes my butt look gigantic. I hate that. I just need it to be a little higher so it can sculpt my waist and give me that hourglass figure. Now a woman that’s apple shaped…” She continues to tell me about the body types of women, but I can’t stop staring at her beautiful face. Not only is she beautiful, but this girl has some mad crazy ideas on how to make things look nice. Just like her apartment. She’s squared away and wrapped in a big bow of perfection. Now I’ve just got to get my head to wrap around how she’s just made this relationship even better than a few seconds ago, if that’s even possible.
“I can whip you up a pair of pants if you want to take them to your appointment tomorrow.” She bites at her bottom lip and stares at the ceiling. “I think I put my sewing machine in the closet next to the bathroom.”
I slip my hands under her arms and lift her off the counter. “Bashful, I just need to hold you so I know this is real.”
She squirms.
I squeeze her tighter and spin around.
The door to the kitchen slams shut.
“Dude, we’ve been down there hitting the weights for over an hour now,” Whiteboy barks. “I thought you were just gonna check a few emails.”
I set Mia on the ground and Whiteboy nods.
“I check it.” He makes a kissy face to Mia.
That look right there is enough to make me slam his face into the kitchen tile so he’ll shit teeth for a week.
“What the hell you doin’?” I growl.
He straightens.
“Tino, stop.” Mia grabs the collar of my t-shirt and leans forward to peck me on the lips before she turns back to Whiteboy. “Tino’s been up here using me for his weights this morning. I hope that’s not a problem.”
“Shit, girl, you ain’t more than twenty pounds soaking wet.” Whiteboy turns his head like she’s trying to play him.
Mia scans him up and down as though she’s sizing him up.
“Give me ten minutes to freshen up and I’ll whoop your ass on the mats.”
I pull my chin back. This is something I’ve gotta see.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I
’m regretting the ponytail. A braid would’ve been more comfortable laying here on the mat. At least Nikki was right about having me wear the tight, bootie shorts. Anything loose would definitely expose the crotch. I’m kind of regretting the stupid idea of asking her to stay longer and watch Lucas while I make a total fool of myself in front of a pack of Tino’s boys.
Just concentrate.
Whiteboy clutches against my leg.
“You ready?” Tino asks with his face close to mine on the mat.
I nod.
“Take it easy on her.” Tino juts his chin.
My body sinks into the mat full of disappointment. “Now wait a minute.” I sit up. “How am I supposed to feel good about winning if everybody in the room thinks this punk took it easy on me?” I hold my hand out to Whiteboy.
Three of the guys are snickering.
“Bashful, I just don’t want him to hurt you.”
“Hurt me?” My blood starts to pound. “Like this?” I slide forward and quickly lock my legs around Whiteboy’s neck, clenching the muscles in my thighs, knowing full well the position I’ve put us in. The kid won’t dare touch me to get me to release for fear of having Tino flip out that he copped a feel of something he shouldn’t. His face turns red, and slowly changes to a shade of purple.
I quickly release.
The crowd of thugs dressed as gym rats laugh.
Whiteboy is gasping for air.
“Or maybe I should try this?” I slide back and whip my legs between his in order to put him in an Indian leg wrestle, flipping him over before he has a chance to really fight back.
The boys laugh harder.
“Or maybe I should—”
“You’ve proved your point.” Tino rips me away from Whiteboy before I can get the rest of my sentence out.
I try to pull away, but his giant hands clutch tighter.
“Don’t be playin’ like this,” he whispers in my ear. “Your damn lucky I ain’t beatin’ the hell out of them for checking you out.”
I glance down at the running sports bra I have on and wonder if I should’ve worn the cami Nikki picked out.
“Girl, I’m just tryin’ to make the place chill so I don’t got seven hungry dogs thinking you’re the next Victoria’s Secret model they can check out in a magazine to take in the bathroom because they ain’t got a chance in hell at having you for real,” his whisper is even lower than before. “It don’t work as innocent as you want it to in a man’s world. This is exactly why I’ve avoided having a woman in the house. It complicates things. Don’t put us in that kind of situation.”
I glance around the room and suddenly notice the disgusting smirks plastered across their faces. Yuck. I lean closer to Tino.
“There you go, Bashful.” He holds me tighter. “Now just follow my lead.”
I nod just enough that only Tino can see it.
“I’m giving the belt to the girl,” Tino jokes. He lifts me off the mat, cradling me in his arms. “I’m gonna take her upstairs and put some clothes on her so you pigs can get your heads straight.” He slaps my butt, playing things off as cool.
A few of them turn their heads, but others stand there and chuckle.
Whiteboy sits up and rubs at his throat.
Tino holds me in his arms and pushes the door open with his foot.
A few hoots and hollers sound back in the room as we head down a long hallway with fluorescent lighting overhead.
Tino stops in front of a steel door.
He lifts his knee to hit the handle so it will open. It’s the kind of thing that belongs at a business not in a house.
We enter into a garage full of restored cars.
I break free out of curiosity.
“You never told me you had so many cars?” I gasp.
“It’s a hobby.” He smiles and winks at me like I’m a little kid playing on the playground.
“There’s so many of them.” I stare at all the colors. A 70 plum crazy purple Dodge Charger. A gold Buick with the larger V8, which took it straight to muscle rather than a family wagon. But the 64 red GTO is my favorite. I wander closer to it. “I can’t even imagine what this is worth.”
“It doesn’t go anywhere. I’ve had it parked down here for years.” Tino brushes the hair hanging down from my ponytail to place his warm hand on the swell of my back. “This is another thing I focused on.”
“I can tell.” I glance at the room full of neon signs glowing like every man’s dream garage and try to ignore the burning sensation in my stomach from him being this close to me. “This place is amazing. It’s like a giant art museum turned Garage Monkey.”
He spins me around and places his other hand on my back to protect me from the cool body of the car, and then presses my body against it.
I shiver.
“Are you co
ld?” he asks before kissing me.
“I’m just enjoying this.” I reach over and grab the handle to open the door. “Shall we?” I nod to the backseat.
His body moves with mine as we find a comfortable position in the cramped space. Our legs intertwine. I look up at him as his body hovers over me while I’m lying on the backseat.
“What do you want from me, Mia?” He breathes heavy enough I can imagine the taste of the sweet butterscotch candy resting on his tongue.
“Everything.” I press my lips against his and fish for the candy.
He refuses to share.
I put up a pouty fight.
“Girl, you have no idea how much I want this.”
“But?” I can see him pulling back.
“Mia, I need to be honest with you. My stuff don’t work.” He glances down to the waistband of his pants.
I make a funny face. “Like it’s broken? I mean it’s not—broken?”
“What?” He scrunches his adorable nose. “Nah, it ain’t like that. The plumbing works fine. I just can’t clog the sink.”
“Huh?” I stare at him. “You lost me at plumbing.”
“Yo, I’m just trying to tell you I can’t give you more kids.” His body shifts, turning away from me as he settles in a seated position next to me.
I’m blown away. Is he serious? “Were you thinking I was wanting a baby?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know.”
“Tino, look at me.” I reach up and grab his clenched jaw. “I’ve—we’ve got Lucas. That’s all I need. Isn’t that enough for you?”
“It’s plenty for me, but I don’t want you having regrets.” He runs his hand over his smooth head. “I guess that’s why I’ve never been with a woman.”
“Uh, what?” My heart drops. Can this get anymore intense?
“I’ve been kicked so many times in the junk from sparring and jujutsu that it started producing blanks.”
“I think I sort of get it.” I interrupt. “And you do this because?”
“I got unsettled business with Sully.” He shifts his body to sit next to me. “I told you the other night. I ain’t going to prison. I can’t afford trouble right now with the business being so fragile. We’re doin’ fine now, but we won’t be because nothing will run without me. Sully thinks if I quit the fighting I’ll lose my big contracts. People buy merchandise from winners.”
Pretty Woman: Mia (The Billionaire Bachelor Series Book 2) Page 10