by Linda Verji
“Baby,” an excited voice squealed into the phone.
Shakira was too shocked to respond.
“Guess where I am,” her mother shrieked over the line.
“Eve?” Shakira asked tentatively not quite believing that it was her.
“I’m in Jamaica. Jaaaaaamaica,” Eve hooted gleefully. From the unnatural pep in her voice, it was more like ‘high in Jamaica’. She added, “Damon’s shooting the video for his next song over here and wanted me to star in it.”
Shakira was quiet for a whole five seconds. When she finally spoke, her voice was deathly calm. “You’re in Jamaica?”
“Can you imagine these niggas wanted me to act as the mother of the girl being hit on?” Eve complained. “You know I ain’t old enough to be nobody’s mother. I kicked up a fuss, told Damon’s yellow ass that he could blow himself for the rest of the trip and all that. Eventually they cast me as her friend. The video’s being released in December. Yas.”
“I’m so happy for you,” Shakira said though her voice sounded anything but happy.
“Thank you.” Eve was oblivious to Shakira’s cold responses. “Honey, you should see the beaches here. They’re amazing. You should come.”
Was Eve serious or joking because this conversation seemed too surreal to be reality. Shakira looked around the room to see if there were any hidden cameras because this had to be a gag Eve was playing on her. When no Ashton Kutchers jumped out from behind the sofa, she stared at her phone like it’d grown wings.
“Honey, I’m serious.” Eve drew Shakira’s attention back to the phone call. “Take the next flight. You could be here by tomorrow.”
“I don’t have any money to go anywhere, least of all Jamaica.” Shakira was shocked that she managed to even choke out that number of words because all she wanted to do was reach through the phone and smack Eve.
“Why?” Eve sounded confused. “I thought you were doing that job as a…” She paused as if racking her brains for an answer. She must have pulled her next words out of her ass because she airily finished with, “…as a salesgirl.”
“No, I wasn’t.” Shakira didn’t even bother to correct her. Her mother would probably forget her profession by the time this call was over anyway.
“You work too hard.” Eve clucked like a mother hen. “You deserve a holiday.”
“Eve…” Despite her urge to scream bloody murder, Shakira kept her voice even as she asked, “…why don’t you send me my money first so I can take that holiday?”
“What money?” Eve’s voice rose like she was genuinely shocked. But before Shakira could call her out for her nonsense, she rushed to add, “Anyway, Damon says hi. I just wanted to check up on you. I’ll buy you a bikini. Bye.”
With that the woman ended the phone call.
That did not just happen. Shakira stared at the now inactive phone in shock expecting it to light up and then her mother to come back on screaming ‘Psyche. Just kidding’. No such thing happened. The phone stayed silent and when she tried to call the number it went straight to voicemail.
Eve was not serious.
Shakira clapped her hands repeatedly as she paced the length of the living room. “Jamaica? Jamaica? Jamaica?” Her voice rose with each word.
Eve was in Jamaica getting her video vixen on and getting high on God knows what while Shakira was practically homeless. What about that heartfelt apology letter? What about the promises to get Shakira her money as soon as possible? Shakira knew that this was just standard Eve, but that didn’t make it any easier to swallow. By the time Nathan got home she was still angrily cussing Eve out to the empty house.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as he set his car keys on the side-table.
“Eve called.” Shakira pointed to the screen of her phone. The disbelief in her voice was obvious as she added, “She’s in Jamaica.”
Nathan’s eyes widened. “She is?”
“I’m going to kill her,” Shakira ranted as she threw her phone on the couch. “I’m not even kidding, Nathan, I’m going to kill her.” She was so angry that the words just poured out unchecked. “She leases my house out. Then runs off with practically every cent panting after some stupid rapper, leaving me here homeless and scrambling to find your money. Now she has the balls to call me and brag about being on a beach in JAMAICA?”
Shakira chuckled but it sounded more like an angry grunt.
“Calm down, baby,” Nathan made a step towards her but Shakira waved him away. She didn’t want to be touched – not when she was feeling this way. There was every chance she’d take out her anger on him and this was not his fault.
“Ooh!” She fanned herself in a bid to cool the heat that her anger had built. It didn’t work and she peeled her tank top over her head and threw it on the couch. “Eve?”
“Did she say if she was coming back?”
Shakira didn’t answer him. Instead she crossed over to the couch and sat on it. Tapping her bare feet on the carpeted floor, she muttered, “Eve. Eve. Eve. EVE.”
Nathan was having one of those stare-at-the-cracks-in-the-ceiling nights, only there were no cracks on the ceiling, just those on his theory about Shakira being a part of her mother’s scheme. Her anger at Eve had been undeniable and he knew that if he checked the footage from the surveillance it would show that she wasn’t lying about the phone-call. She’d been telling the truth all along. She was just as much a victim as he was, if not more.
To say he felt like a fool – a callous fool - was an understatement.
Shakira’s breath fanned over his skin, her head rising and falling with the movement of his chest. It’d taken a while for her anger to run its course and by the time she let him touch her, she’d tired out herself. She’d sluggishly let him put her to bed still muttering Eve’s name.
Considering that he’d gone to bed without dinner, Nathan should’ve been hungry. However, the only pangs beating down at his door at this hour were the guilty ones wrenching on his conscious. He felt like an asshole for misreading Shakira like that. Scratch that – he was an asshole. While she was trying to make the best out of the situation they’d found themselves in, he was busy scheming and plotting.
“Mm.” Shakira shifted in her sleep tucking her nose into the crook of his neck and fitting her leg between his. Nathan’s arm tightened protectively around her. Though the room was shrouded in shadows, he could still see her face. He traced the lines with his gaze before lowering his head and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.
How could he have been so wrong?
He should’ve known that she was innocent! He’d let his ego guide his actions instead of his instincts and they’d misled him. The only saving grace was that Shakira had no idea about the extent of his suspicion and everything he’d done to satisfy it. He didn’t even want to think of what would’ve happened if she knew.
Maybe I should come clean.
Nah! He nixed the idea as soon as it popped up. If her reaction to the handbag incident was any indication, Shakira wouldn’t take it well. There was no good way to spin everything he’d done. It looked bad on and off paper. From deliberately engineering their one night stand, setting a PI on her, dating her to dig for more information, bringing her into his house so that he could seduce the truth from her, planting cameras around the house – Shit!
It looked nasty as hell.
No sane woman would take it well. Shakira would be out the door before he even finished telling the truth. No! At this point the truth would only hurt her and that was the last thing he wanted to do.
“We’ll start afresh,” his whispered words floated in the dark.
As soon as morning came, he was going to make sure Randall took out the cameras. Any following the PI did from now on was only for protection, not investigation. If he wanted information he’d ask Shakira and get the answers he needed straight from her.
Yes, that was what he’d do.
But he’d never tell Shakira, after all what she didn’t know wouldn’t hur
t her.
No harm done.
What was going on with Nathan?
Shakira wondered three days later as she stood in the shower. The warm water jetted from the shower head above, soothing over her body but not her thoughts.
Really, what was going on with him?
Ever since the day her mother had called, he’d been…different. Something seemed to have subtly shifted in their relationship. There were more dates, flower and gift deliveries, more touching…and the sharing. Where before she was always the one sharing bits of her past with him, these days he was the one doing all opening up, from his childhood memories, to being part of such a prolific family, to his dreams for Extreme Expressions.
Not that she didn’t appreciate it - she did - but it set her antennae on edge.
From her experience most people behaved extra nicely when they were over-compensating for their sins. What did Nathan feel guilty about? Sifting through her purse. She didn’t think so. There was a lot more to this than just getting caught with his hand in the proverbial cooking jar.
Then there was also the little details in the stories, he shared. He’d acted like he didn’t know anything about New York during their previous dates, yet from his stories it was obvious he was as much a native as she was. In fact their family home was in Long Island. It was just a small fact but it kept niggling at her. Though she hid it well, her woman’s instincts were flaring like fire alarms sending warning signals. Something was going on here.
She was so intent on her thoughts that she didn’t hear the shower door opening. She only felt the cold breeze wafting in and opened her eyes. Nathan stood at the door, a flush mantling his cheeks, his nose flaring slightly as his eyes caroused down her body and then up again.
“Mind if I join you?”
She stood there and stared at him with the yellow washcloth pressed against her upper chest. She felt caught, fascinated by the expanse of his naked chest, the line of hair that licked his taut stomach, the powerful muscular thighs that framed the black triangle of hair encircling his cock. She licked her suddenly dry lips.
Shakira really wanted to deny him but she couldn’t have refused even if she wanted to. Her body had already started humming, intent on ignoring all the signals her mind was sending it. You can be suspicious and still get some, her already weeping pussy convinced. She verbalized her body’s needs. “I don’t mind.”
Nathan strode naked towards hers.
“I love your body,” he said thickly, his eyes intent on her breasts whose tips had already puckered up in arousal. “I love how you react to me.” Tagging the washcloth from her fist and hanging it on the rail, he dragged her arms away from her body, opening her up for his observation. “Let me see.”
His expression was blindly sensual as his eyes devoured her body.
Reaching for the soap, he soaped his hands and then threw it back to enclave on the wall. His soapy hands closed on her breasts. Shakira inhaled sharply, jerking with shock as his grasp on her flesh tightened.
“Nathan.” She closed her eyes and arched backwards at the indescribable sensations that shot through her as Nathan’s hands moved over her breasts massaging and then gently pinching the tips. With one hand he drew her away from the water’s path while his other continued to wreak havoc on her body.
This was wrong – so wrong. How could she be so suspicious of him yet still be so turned on by him? Her body should be shutting him out but it couldn’t, she couldn’t. Nathan seemed to have some hidden knowledge of what she wanted and needed even before she did, befuddling her common sense.
His soapy hand moved lower. “Wider.”
She opened up for him obediently and gasped when he touched her there. Their lips met as his fingers delved between her pussy lips. His mouth was warm and delicious but nothing compared to the errant finger toying with her clit. His thumb rotated over the pulsating nub driving her body and mind crazy. The sensations ricocheting through her body were balanced on that plane between pain and pleasure, heating her blood and causing her to shift needily against him.
She wasn’t the only one affected. His towering cock brushed against her stomach. Unsatisfied with just rubbing up against it, Shakira reached for his shaft. Nathan groaned when her palms circled him, and the sound encouraged her to draw her touch up and down the thick, long column of flesh.
He was so hot. So hard. So long. She wanted him inside her.
“Sssssss.” His mouth absorbed her hiss when he pushed one finger gently into her, sawing it in and out, one time, two times, three times. Her knees buckled when he fit in a second finger but he was there to catch her.
He cupped her buttocks and lifted her. She instinctively wrapped her legs around him.
He plunged in.
She gave a keening cry as her as she clutched at him with her arms, legs and pussy. Her walls convulsed around the thick flesh easing into her body slowly but surely. He stretched her, teased her senses and seduced her with his body. She didn’t even realize he was moving until he had her propped against the glass door, her only goal to get him to start moving.
He slowly withdrew then pushed back into her in one hard long stroke. “Fuck,” His expletive filled the shower as she contracted her pussy muscles around him.
“Do that again,” he begged roughly as he started to withdraw again. When he pushed in again she repeated her actions. In. Out. In. Out. He stroked inside her with calm precision that belied his rugged breaths rasping over her throat. He lifted her with each hard rhythmic thrust sending her towards explosive release.
The shudders began then.
Her back arched and hips bucked as release racked her body.
Nathan began to move hard and faster, before with a savage growl he came inside her.
CHAPTER 17
“I’m sorry I didn’t use protection,” Nathan apologized as he sat on the bed watching Shakira comb her hair.
“Don’t worry about it.” Shakira squeezed out a dollop of lotion on her palm. She patted it into her hair before picking up the vivid purple dryer on the vanity table. Casting a smile at him through the mirror she said, “You’re not the only one who got carried away. I’ll just drop by the pharmacy later.”
He’d been so desperate for her that wrapping up hadn’t even crossed his mind and the sensations of being in her unencumbered were indescribable. He wasn’t even sure that he could go back to ‘that’ – not with how good raw had felt. Could he convince her to get on the pill?
Nathan should’ve been surprised that he was actually considering trusting a woman to take care of the birth control. That wasn’t something he would’ve done a year…no, three months ago. He was too suspicious of women and their motives to not be extremely careful when it came to protection. Everyone knew that pills weren’t a hundred percent guarantee anyway. But for some reason getting Shakira pregnant didn’t seem like the worst thing that could happen to him.
His eyes skimmed her towel clad back as he watched her dry her hair. He could already imagine her waist getting thicker with his baby. There was no doubt that Shakira would make a good mother. She was caring, loyal and stand-up woman – how could he have doubted her? He gave himself a mental shake. He’d been so blinded by anger that he couldn’t see what was right in front of him.
He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn’t notice her pause in her actions until she turned down the electronic and asked, “Are you okay?”
“Why do you ask?”
She turned in the seat to fully face him. Tilting her head slightly, she frowned. “I don’t know you’ve just been behaving kind of odd.”
Nathan’s heart lurched and he paled. “Odd how?”
“Guilty odd.” She was frowning more definitely now. “Do you need to tell me something?”
“Something like what? There’s nothing to tell.” His words rushed out eager to cover his sudden anxiety. “I mean I don’t have anything to tell you.”
“You’re stuttering.” Her eyes narrowed to shards
.
“I’m not stuttering,” he denied even though they both knew his ass was burning in the hot seat she’d just placed him in.
Please don’t ask any more questions. Please don’t ask any more questions.
“Mm hmm.” She gave him another doubtful look as she skimmed what he hoped was his blasé expression. With another, “mm hmm”, she turned back to the mirror and switched on the dryer again.
Shit. Shakira was definitely suspicious of him. Did she know something or was she just reaching into the haystack and hoping she came up with a needle? No, there was no possible way she knew. Apart from him, the only other person who knew the extent of his sins was Randall and he would never talk. Eager to erase her doubts, Nathan stood. Adjusting his towel on his waist he made his way towards her.
Her brown eyes met his in the mirror when he stood behind her and she eased the dryer into a low hum as she asked, “Whaddup?”
“Let me help you with that,” he said trying to tag the dryer from her hand. Shakira held onto it tightly.
“Uh uh.” She shook her head, the thick curls of her hair bouncing with the movement. “Do you even know how to use this?”
“It can’t be that hard.” He teased, “I mean you’re doing it.”
“Boy.” She kissed her teeth, and slapped his thigh before she let go of the dryer. “I swear if you burn me.”
It was not as easy as he thought. The thick curls were tangled and in an effort to disentangle them, he ended up pulling too hard.
“Ow,” Shakira cried out as she ducked her head downwards to escape him. “Nathan!”
He grimaced. “Did I hurt you?”
“What’d you think?” She snatched the gadget from him. “Go away.”
Bereft, he skulked back to the bed, plopped on it on his back and closed his eyes. The whirring sounds of Shakira working her hair filled the bedroom. After a while – a long while – there was silence. Nathan didn’t open his eyes when he felt the bed dip beside him or when he felt Shakira hovering over him.