She stilled his hand. “I’m with someone else, Terrence. You know that.”
His features hardened in an instant and he rolled off her onto his back. He stared up at the ceiling.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“You think I want to talk about your man while I’m lying in bed with you? I bet you weren’t thinking about him a minute ago when you were tearing up my back.”
True, and that made her feel guilty. “So you think good sex is all that matters?”
“It’s not all that matters, but…” He rose up on an elbow and let his gaze sweep down her body. She moved to cover her breasts and he smacked her hand away. “Since when do you hide from me? You belong to him now, is that it?”
“I never said—”
He rolled onto her and pinned her arms on either side of her head. “You worried about that Austin nigga? You think I care?” He kneed her thighs apart and his erection pressed against her abdomen like a hot rod.
“Terrence—”
“I know what you like,” he said, head bent to her ear. “I know when you want it hard or soft. I know when you want gentle or rough. I know every mole on your body and every stretch mark you gained carrying my babies. And I know you want more of this dick.”
His warm breath brushed the sensitive lobe of her ear. She closed her eyes tight, willing her body to resist, but knowing she wouldn’t. It had been too long since she experienced this type of passion. It had been too long since she’d been with the only man who could turn her inside out with a simple look.
He was right. He knew her like no one else, and that made him irresistible.
“I don’t give a fuck about your man,” he said.
His hands were rougher this time. But rough or gentle, Terrence gave unsurpassed pleasure, every touch inflicting a riot of sensation that turned her into a wanton, moaning fraction of herself, willing to surrender all to him.
He flipped her onto her stomach and pushed her legs apart. Then his weight came down on top of her as he slid between her thighs. Charisse gripped the bedsheets, whimpering and trembling as his steely length filled her.
His body plowed into hers, his fingers sank into her hair. They fastened around a braid and he pulled back her head. “You’re mine tonight,” he growled.
Over and over his hardness plunged into the depths of her body. The small bed rocked with each deep, pounding stroke. There was anger in each thrust. Anger and a need to possess.
Charisse met his need with a need of her own. Her hips bounced up to meet his solid drives. Reaching back, she grabbed his ass and then clenched her muscles around his hard shaft.
The rhythm of his hips faltered and he muttered an expletive. “Charisse,” he groaned.
Yes, she belonged to him tonight. But he belonged to her, too.
He pressed his face into the side of her neck and slid a hand down to her clit. He started moving again. All the while he played with the little damp bundle of nerves. He needed to push her faster toward climax so he wouldn’t come before she did.
Mere seconds later, the wave of an orgasm undulated from where Terrence was buried inside her, and rippled with great force throughout her entire body. She cried out in relief. Overwhelmed. Overjoyed. Completely consumed.
He continued to ride her as wave after wave seized her muscles. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he said in a hoarse, trembling voice.
Then he came, too, with a loud shout. His arms crushed her to him as he rammed into her over and over.
Their ravenous appetite for each other ended with them both collapsed on the bed, panting, spent, and sated.
Charisse remained unmoving in bed, listening to the stillness of late morning. She knew it was late because sunlight poured through the sheer drapes. She and Terrence spent most of the night screwing like they only had twenty-four hours to live and the survival of humanity depended on them.
Her bottom and legs butted up against his warm body, and she knew without turning over that he was awake.
“Morning,” he said, his voice a rough rasp. He knew she was awake, too.
“Morning,” she replied.
Terrence moaned and the bed moved as he stretched. Then a heavy dark arm landed across her waist and he nuzzled her shoulder blade.
“Feel so good waking up next to you,” he whispered.
Her hand covered his. Though conflicted about what to do next, she enjoyed this moment, too. Waking up next to him was comforting and didn’t feel odd or peculiar.
She knew he’d dozed off when his even breathing sounded in the room. What seemed like only minutes later, her eyes flew open. She’d fallen asleep, too, at some point, exhausted from the night of sexual gymnastics. But a noise woke her up. She cocked her head.
Someone was in the house.
“Terrence,” she whispered in a panic, nudging him with an elbow.
“What’s—”
“Shh!” Charisse whispered fiercely. “There’s someone in the house.”
“T?” a female voice said a distance away. She recognized that voice. It was Kim, his current flame. What was she doing here?
“Oh, shit,” Terrence muttered. He sat up in the bed, obviously intending to stop her in the hall, before she came into the room.
“Babe, you here?” Kim called. She pushed on the slightly ajar door.
Charisse’s eyes widened and she scrunched down into the sheets, wishing she could disappear.
Kim halted before she stepped a foot over the threshold, mouth falling open. “What’s going…?” She stared at them in bed together. “You son of a bitch!” she screamed. “I thought I would surprise you.” Tears filled her eyes. She looked at him, then Charisse, then him again. “You didn’t want me to come because you knew you’d be here with her. You’re despicable!”
“Kim, listen to me—” Terrence said.
“I hate you!” she screamed.
She swung around and rushed down the hall.
Charisse covered her head with the blanket and closed her eyes. If Kim had snatched the linens from the bed and scratched her eyes out, she wouldn’t have blamed the younger woman.
“Hold on!” she heard Terrence call. “Charisse, I’ll be right back.”
He scrambled from the bed. Movement in the room suggested he’d gathered his pants and put them on. The bedroom door slammed, and seconds later muffled yelling came from the front of the house as Kim and Terrence argued outside.
Charisse wanted to die. She’d done something so vile, she didn’t know if she could look at herself later.
She’d become the other woman.
12
“Well, your life might be in shambles, but you look great.” Vicky, Charisse’s friend and hairstylist, stood back and assessed her handiwork.
“Thanks,” Charisse said dryly.
Vicky smiled then twisted her around in the chair so she could face the mirror.
Charisse fluffed the shiny strands and shook her head from side to side so her hair bounced. She had been overdue for a visit to the salon, and her friend did a great job as usual. She’d given Charisse a retouch, applied a semi-permanent color to enrich her natural hue, and sewn in a couple of blonde tracks to layer in brightness to her hair.
The effect was amazing. She looked younger and refreshed. Very important, since her face was once again showing up regularly online.
Ever since the fiasco in Macon, Kim had been making the rounds, telling anyone who’d listen that her boyfriend, T-Murder, broke her heart. Terrence claimed to Charisse that he and Kim were not in a relationship and merely hooked up every now and again. Kim clearly saw their “hookups” differently and posted a video with tears in her eyes, bemoaning the fact that she found the man she thought she had a future with in bed with his ex-wife. She was particularly devastated since she went to Macon to console him after the death of his grandmother.
The doorbell hadn’t worked, and she tried the door and unfortunately for Charisse and Terrence, found it unlocked. No doubt
because they’d both paid little attention to locking up when they’d been buzzing off “the reefer.” So that’s how Kim managed to enter the house and discover them in bed together.
Charisse knew better than to follow the story, but she nonetheless checked the usual places online. When she saw the photos of herself, a couple obviously taken through long-range camera lenses, she’d been annoyed and appalled at her appearance. For the next few weeks at least, while this woman made her rounds and Charisse had somehow become public enemy number one, she wanted to look her best while being disparaged online.
Vicky brushed fine hairs off her shoulders. “How do you feel now?”
“Like a new woman.”
“Well, you look great.”
“Thanks to you.” Minutes later, she handed Vicky a hefty tip. “See you in a couple of months.”
“Take care of yourself, girl.” Her friend’s eyes filled with sympathy.
“I’ll try.”
Charisse went to the front, avoiding eye contact with the other patrons on the way, and paid for her services. Her security detail, a large white man who stood out like an orange in a bushel of apples, left the chair he sat in while Vicky did her hair, and came to stand near her. She donned large sunglasses and walked a block to the black SUV parked at the curb. The bodyguard opened the back door and she slipped in, safely ensconced behind tinted windows. Then he climbed in the front with the driver.
She returned to Atlanta the same day Kim discovered her and Terrence but hadn’t seen him since they parted over a week ago. They’d spoken on the phone twice since then. On the last call he insisted that not only would the kids have security, but he didn’t want Charisse driving and would assign her a bodyguard for when she left the house, until the hoopla surrounding the scandal died down.
She’d spent years out of the spotlight and grew accustomed to driving wherever she needed to go, but because she’d unexpectedly been thrust back into the public eye with such force, she agreed with Terrence. Her nerves were a mess, and she worried each time she stepped foot in public, someone would secretly take a photo of her and post it online, or she’d be approached by curious fans or an aggressive reporter. Knowing the kids were safe and having someone else responsible for taking her back and forth and escorting her to her destinations around the city made life a little easier and gave her one less thing to worry about.
She walked into the house at twelve-thirty, fixed a simple omelette and fruit lunch, and then sat down at the counter to eat. The kids were all going over to friends’ houses after school and wouldn’t be home until dinner, so she had plenty of time to catch up on bills and send a couple of emails.
At one thirty, the intercom buzzed and she checked the monitor. Terrence stood outside at the door. What was he doing here?
He looked up at the camera, and her heart tightened. Memories of the night they spent together came rushing back, and her skin heated as if he was standing right there, caressing her body all over again.
She could feel him inside of her. Could taste the saltiness of his skin and experience the almost violent way he shoved into her as he growled his need into her ear, alternating between devastatingly slow strokes and mind-blowingly heavy thrusts.
Charisse fanned her face and breathed slowly from her mouth to calm down. At this rate, she’d spontaneously combust before he stepped foot in the house.
She pressed the intercom button. “Use your key,” she said.
She worried about her reaction to seeing him in the flesh again, but they needed to talk about the explosion in the media and their supposedly rekindled relationship.
Terrence entered the house and came back to the kitchen. His wavy hair looked freshly trimmed, lined up around the edges and a little higher on top.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” she replied. She stood.
“You got your hair done. Looks nice.” His gaze trailed over her skinny jeans, and whatever he was thinking made him bite his bottom lip before their eyes met again.
Her cheeks heated. “Thank you. Your trim looks nice, too.”
“How you been?” he asked. He looked so good in loose-fitting jeans and a white V-necked tee that hugged his body and created a sharp contrast against his dark umber skin.
Charisse smoothed clammy hands over her hips. “How do you think I’ve been? You know I hate having my name mentioned on TMZ or shared anywhere online, but what can we do? Your girlfriend has turned our private life into an opportunity for publicity and online clout.”
He ran a wary hand over the back of his head. His tattoo-covered biceps flexed. “I told you before she’s not my girlfriend, and don’t worry—she’ll go away soon. Her fifteen minutes of fame will soon be up.”
She eyed him, dissatisfied with that answer. She wished they could make Kim and all the salacious gossip go away overnight.
“What do you want me to say, Charisse? We worked toward this type of fame at one time, remember? We can’t turn it on and off anytime we want. We both knew publicity was part of the deal. What’s going on in our lives will always be interesting to the general public.”
“I’m not part of that life anymore. I don’t want to be a part of it. I don’t want to be a part of the media circus that’s your life. That’s why I live out here, but you’re dragging me back into it.”
“So you regret what happened between us?” He tilted his head, his voice low and warm.
“Of course I do.”
“I thought once you had time to think, you’d see things differently.”
“I don’t.”
“We made love, like we used to, and it was good. You enjoyed it, and I enjoyed it.” His eyes darkened. “I want to put my mouth on you and feel you under me again. It’s so damn hard not to reach for you right now.”
She knew that feeling, because she wanted to reach for him, too. “Stop talking to me like that.”
His eyes focused on her breasts, and she wondered if he could see how hard her nipples were through her blouse. She was too afraid to look and hoped the hunger she experienced the minute she saw his face on the monitor hadn’t manifested in that way.
“How are things with Dud—I mean, Austin?”
“Over.” After a particularly awkward conversation, Austin walked away and left Charisse to wallow in the aftertaste of guilt as a result of betraying someone who’d been nothing but good to her.
“Can’t say that I’m sorry.” His expression was totally unrepentant.
Charisse took a deep breath and placed her hands on her hips. “Why did you come here?”
“I was worried about you.”
“You could have inquired about my well-being over the phone. As you can see, I’m fine.”
“Yes, you are.” His gaze trailed over her again, and this time his nostrils flared.
He’d used one of the oldest lines in the book, and still she blushed, as if he’d recited original poetry.
Terrence came closer, and her core spasmed in a silent cry for him. He stopped within arm’s length of her. “I’m not fine, though. I miss you. I need you. Right this minute.”
She reached back and gripped the counter. Would one more time really hurt?
He eased closer, deep into her personal space. He brushed his lips to her cheek. With his mouth hovering over hers, he whispered, “You know you own me. Heart, body, and soul.”
She lowered her gaze. The feeling was mutual. He owned her, inside and out, but she dared not admit it. She couldn’t give him that kind of power again. His hands moved slowly to the front of her jeans, giving her ample time to stop him.
She didn’t.
He unsnapped the button and lowered the zipper.
She let him.
He slipped a hand inside her panties and stroked a long finger at the cleft between her legs. He swore softly. “You been standing here being cold to me, but you’re wet like this?”
When he pushed two fingers inside her, an involuntary gasp left her throat. She gripped his shoulders.
He pushed the jeans lower and grabbed her bottom and squeezed. He hauled her against his body, and her arms slid around his neck.
Terrence licked her lower lip and then slid his tongue across the edge of her teeth. She moaned, rising up on tiptoe and seizing the pink snake between her lips. One hand caressed his wide neck and slipped up into his freshly cut hair.
“One time, Terrence. That’s it,” she whispered against his mouth.
He laughed softly, sexy and confident as he looked down at her from narrowed eyes dark with lust. He kissed below her jaw and shoved a hand into her hair. “I already know the kids won’t be home for hours. And you know good and well this ain’t no one-time afternoon.”
He covered her mouth, kissing her deep and hard. Her passionate response matched his. She rubbed her hips against him and let her hands smooth under his shirt and caress his warm, firm skin. She pressed closer, opening her mouth and tilting back her head to deepen the kiss.
He was right. Once wouldn’t be enough.
Not for a long time to come.
13
There was something about laying naked across the bed with your head on your man’s abs while he smoothed a firm hand from the base of your neck to the middle of your shoulder blades in a soothing, repeated motion. For the past five weeks, Terrence made the trip north of the city two nights a week to slip into the house undetected so they could make love.
Tonight made the third night for the week because tomorrow he left for Louisiana to film his part in another action film coming out next year. It was his biggest role to date, and not only was he excited, Charisse was excited too. This role could open up additional doors for him to enter into acting once he left music. The new challenge stoked his creative juices, and he now took acting lessons to hone his craft.
“You should come with me,” Terrence said.
“I would love to, but I have so much to do.”
Without You (Quicksand Book 2) Page 7